We Get No RESPECT...

We get no respect! We're charter members of the "Honey-Do" club. Ok guys, time to rally about. It's the one day of the year dedicated to us a mere 40 years ago, yet it will probably be treated as just another day. Even though President Johnson put us on the calendar, it just seems to slip by unnoticed. Why is that? Could it be that we're just not that important as Mom's or is it just that we don't really care either way? Hummmmm, let me think. Naw, I know we're very important. We bring home the bacon and the bread. Oh yeah, we get our reward in the bed. I know. We do all the chores around the house. Oh yeah, the boss lets us golf and watch TV. We fix things. Oops, I forgot. We probably broke it in the first place trying to force things. Let me think. What else do we do? We let them go shopping and we get to stay home and watch TV, "push". Ok, guess we're not that special after all. Ah, but then I remember our little girls telling us how much they love us, giving us those nice little hugs and kisses, snuggling up to us on the couch, bringing us our slippers, telling us how they will always be there to take care of us when we grow old. "They walk us to the door in the morning to kiss us good-by and greet us at the door when we come home and ask us about our day and how much they missed us. Hey , isn't that what our wives are suppose to do? Maybe there's more to the statement from our daughters that they want to marry us when they grow up! Our sons...those guys are guys. They don't even give us another thought on Father's day. I don't know about you but I'm depressed. Time to go out and do something fun. What do you say about us all meeting up somewhere and comiserate? Sorry, got to go. The little women is calling...Have a great day this Sunday! Do something fun...

A cheer to "Fathers" everywhere...

"Tribute to a father"

When I was:

Four years old: My Daddy can do anything.

Five years old: My Daddy knows a whole lot.

Six years old: My Dad is smarter than your dad.

Eight years old: My Dad doesn't know exactly everything.

Ten years old: In the olden days, when my Dad grew up, things were sure different.

Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.

Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.

Twenty-one years old: Him? My Lord, he's hopelessly out of date.

Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.

Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.

Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.

Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.

Fifty years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.