I can count on one hand the number of times my father has really and truly liked his Father’s Day gift. When I was a kid, the handmade macaroni necklaces and the soap-on-a-rope was received politely, and given to my mother, as my father does with all gifts he doesn’t really want. Last year I scored with a bunch of salty nuts and six bottles of Dad’s Root Beer. I know my father liked his gift, because he hoarded it, and allowed no one to touch it. Generally, giving my father root beer as a gift is the answer to all things — not soap, not ties, not sporting goods, not sentiment. Root beer. And so, I give it to him for his birthdays and for Father’s Day, and we muddle through the gift-giving thing one more time.
This year, on Father’s Day, my eldest sister dropped by my parent’s house. It was hot, and my father was lying down on the cool tiles of the front porch with pillows, a drink (probably root beer) and a book. To my sister’s surprise, my father was reading MARE’S WAR.
My father is proud of me. Truly, he is. But, his pride consists of telling people that I’m a writer, suggestion on to whom I should give books, suggestions for writing subjects, and generally telling me how to do what I do. His pride has not so far extended to actually, you know, reading my books or anything. But he was apparently bored enough, and hot enough to make a start. And then, he responded with enthusiasm. He regaled my sister with his list of actors who should be cast in a film version. He raved about how surprisingly good the book was. He was engaged. He was excited.
So, this year, the gift on Father’s Day was for me. And I shall hoard this little memory, and not let anything touch it.
Oh, that’s nice! Really, it is. The last time I talked to my dad on the phone (a few days ago) he strongly hinted that I somehow “owe” him one of my author copies and should also furnish him with further copies from my as-yet-nonexistent store of copies bought at an author discount from my publisher. And I’m fairly sure he hasn’t read it yet. I tried to explain how it would be better if he actually went into a bookstore and ensured that they had it in stock, and bought it from there, but alas, I think my pleas fell on deaf ears…
Well, let’s not get crazy here; I’m pretty sure I GAVE that book to the ‘rents – purchasing, however, has taken place in the form of gifts for others, which is sweet of them.
(“Them,” I said. READ: MOM.)
Oh, I love this! Happy belated Father’s Day to you, Tanita. 🙂
I also have trouble getting gifts for my dad. He also is forever telling me what to do. He once suggested that I “should just write a bestseller.” Bless him.
When my homeschooling book came out, he bought a copy and donated it to his local library, though. That was pretty cool.
Yes, that “bless him” comes up, because the other options are more violent. 🙂 Beloved, but oy, bossy!
A true gift. Wow!
Sympathetic hand squeeze viz fathers…I’m so happy for you that he’s reading it!
I really love this. I’m a teeny bit envious, but I really, really love this. What a wonderful affirmation for you!
Don’t be envious! Your publishing date will come — sooner, if you finish writing your book… and then YOUR dad can nag YOU.
That’s awesome! I, too, love that he has a cast of actors in mind for your story. Awesome, indeed.
Wow! Sooooooo happy to hear this! Made my day 😀 .
Love how he’s already thinking “movie.” Too cute. Can’t be any prouder than that.
I feel your glow on this side of the Atlantic . . .