When I was eight months pregnant with Jocelyn, Khary said that he didn’t want to celebrate Father’s Day. Despite the fact that he had bought me my first Mother’s Day gift the month prior, he claimed that until he met our baby nose-to-nose, he wasn’t truly a dad. I didn’t argue and we were able to laugh about it [the word preemie remained outside of our realm of understanding for another year].
Now that he’s a dad of two, Khary got the royal treatment. That is, he mentioned that he wanted to take a series of golf lessons and I thought that would make a really nice gift. So I handed him the check to pay for it. I also chose the girls’ gift for him: two mini bottles of hot sauce because he likes things spicy. Nothing says love like habanero sauce. Next year I hope to set them free in a dollar store and see what they come up with on their own. I'm guessing it'll be something pink, with sparkles.
We celebrated by going to the zoo. This was actually our third choice. The A’s game was sold out (damn Giants fans) and the horses weren’t running. Jocelyn is at an age where she remembers most things that we tell her, and she was very excited to go see the horsies. A good substitute, in her book, will always be a giraffe.
I always knew that Khary would be a great dad. We have similar backgrounds—we were both raised by single mothers, and we talked often (before having children) about how we would raise them. But sometimes talk is just talk, and having children can change people. If it has changed Khary, it’s only for the better. Seeing him with the girls will always bring a smile to my face.
I'm a lucky girl to have those three.