I am surprised that I still have stories to share on this blog. I wonder from time to time whether or not I’ve shared all there is to share, but then I tell my wife some story from my childhood and she doesn’t remember me writing about it on here. That said, in honor of yesterday being Father’s Day, I thought I’d share a story and a lesson that my father gave me when I was young.
If I’ve shared it before, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it on my blog before, but you are more than welcome to read every other post that I’ve written to prove me wrong. In fact, I encourage it. Go read them all. I’ll wait.
My dad has always been a hands-on type guy. He’d almost always rather do a job himself than pay someone else to do it. So when it came time to build the garage behind our house when I was about seven years old, he did a lot of the work himself.
Around this time, I was just learning to write in cursive at school (do kids even learn cursive anymore in this age of iPads or have they learned to bypass writing altogether by using thought-transcription apps?) and I was always excited when I got to sign my name on something. I must say that my signature has, if anything, gotten worse since that time.
So when my dad asked me if I wanted to sign something on one of our trips to the lumberyard, I was only too excited to do so.
A few weeks later, I was even more excited when I got something in the mail (is there anything better than getting things in the mail as a kid?). It was a bill from the lumberyard. My dad asked me how I was going to pay for it.
The lesson here was that I should always know what I’m signing before I sign it. I don’t remember having to actually work off the bill, but that experience has stuck with me. My dad saw an opportunity to teach me a lesson about life, and he took it.
I only hope that I will be as observant with my kids to teach them lessons that will stick with them though life.
Anyway, Happy Belated Father’s Day, readers!