Last year on Father's Day, I decided to buy Mike a grill. I had saved a little money, we had just bought a home with an empty porch, and he deserved a nice, fancy grill.
After lunch and before stopping at Home Depot, we pulled into a gas station to fill up. Right when the day seemed just a little too lovely to stand, one of the front ball joints fell off our car.
(Although it dawns on me I don't know if there are rear ball joints on a car.)
Mike looked at me, I looked at Mike, and I think we both said, "that's not good" simultaneously.
And it wasn't good. It was hundreds of dollars of not good.
Mike did not get a grill for Father's Day last year.
***
This year, Mike and his dad went down to College Station for a motorcycle track day to celebrate Father's Day. They both ride, and it was a nice way for them to spend the day together. It seemed fair since I got to spend the night in a comfortable hotel room with my mom for my Mother's Day outing, and riding a motorcycle for Mike is like sleeping in a comfortable bed for me.
Mike came home last night to freshly-made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (made by me!), and I went outside to greet him with one after he pulled up.
He limped toward me, and I thought, "Huh, he must be pretty sore."
Nope, he crashed. His motorcycle. On Father's Day.
He's fine! He's really, really fine! Please, close your mouths if they've fallen open in shock! He has a bruised ankle and a very slightly fractured wrist. But he's fine! He'll be fine!
(His bike is not fine. RIP very expensive hunk of metal.)
You can bet I'm not getting on a plane next Father's Day.
***
I had planned to say something very, very sweet about Mike and what a fantastic dad he is for Father's Day because he is. He's a great dad. He's the best dad I know, no doubt about that, but all I keep thinking (in a very joking, you-must-know-I'm-glad-my-husband-is-fine! tone, of course) is this: well, if he didn't do the dishes before, he's sure not going to dive into a dirty sink with a fractured wrist.
***
Seriously, though, Mike, you are a great, great dad, and even though your hobbies of choice are both expensive and more dangerous than mine (which include blogging and champagne drinking), I know that when Kyle sits down years and years and years from now to document the long list of things he should thank me for, making you his dad is going to top it.