The Afterthought That Counts

The invitations for the Mother's Day ceremonies at my children's school starting flooding their backpacks about mid-November.

Can you come? Please come. Please Please PLEASE?!?

How many mothers will attend? How many grandmothers? Any great-grandmothers? Any females of child-bearing age who are in your domestic employment?

Then came the deluge of reminders. Don't forget, each said. Don't Forget! DON'T FORGET!

Oh, and there was this:

 

When the days (yes, plural) of celebration finally arrived, much tea and cake were consumed. Handwritten cards and letters were passed about. Sonnets and odes performed. Bette Midler popped in to perform "Wind Beneath My Wings" with a 42-piece orchestra. This, of course, followed the F-14 flyover but came before the trained killer whale that rocketed up through a cafeteria sink of greasy suds to create a spray that stretched 20 yards through the air and spelled out "Bless Your Wondrous Wombs" in kaleidoscope colors.

In all, the children celebrated motherhood for three solid hours, a Tony-worthy product of many, many months of heartfelt thought and detailed preparation. "It was amazing and beautiful. Much better than 'Cats'," said My Love, who came home misty from the second day's ceremony, clutching an 18-page souvenir program in her hand that deftly hide, upon her finger, a shiny new secret decoder ring.

A month later, here we are -- the Tuesday before Father's Day.

All is calm; all is trite.

See, I found this buried in my son's backpack:

 

I ask: Where does a father take the most offense in this missive?

The second billing?

The parenthetical "something small"?

Being the sandwich act that comes before for the sugarfest that will be End-of-the-Year party?

No, what gets me is "also." Dads are "also encouraged and invited to attend."

I feel as though someone might have Wited-Out "but don't feel obligated because your little wigglers hitting the mark have already done enough damage, dig?"

What's worse is that this warm missive comes from the teacher whose class I visit every week to help her students hone their urban slang.

Still, it'll beat the skunking from my daughter's class. When I asked what gave, considering the hullabaloo held a month earlier for mothers, she said, "I don't know. Dads just aren't as important as moms, I guess."

What's a poor sperm donor to do?

"Buck up, Half Pint. It's not what others think of you. It's what you think of yourself that counts."

Huh? Is that you, TV's Charles Ingalls From "Little House On The Prairie" As Played By The Ghost of Impeccably Coiffed Michael Landon?

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: Sure is, Half Pint.

ME: Uh, you're daughter was Half Pint.

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: All right there, Hoss.

ME: No. That was your character Little Joe's brother on "Bonanza."

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: Let's move it along. I'm due for my daily moussing.

ME: TV's Charles Ingalls, what's a dad to do when even the public school system encourages his kids to see you as a second-class parent?

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: You love your kids. You love them harder. You show the world that you're not afraid to be there for them, to hug them, laugh with them or cry in front of them. You always support them, publicly and privately, even when their underage smoking burns down the School for the Blind and kills your grandchild and your best friend's wife in a Very Special Two-Part Episode in Season Six. Oh, that adopted son of mine. Ha ha. HA-HAHAHAHAHA! What a scamp!

ME: Wow! You are amazing. No slight or hardship ever fazes you, does it?

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: Nope. Not when you have access to Doc Baker's opium cabinet.

ME: Hey! Focus! Stay in character.

TV'S CHARLES INGALLS: Sorry. (Clears throat.) Excuse me now, Caroline wants me unhitch the oxen before I play the girls some "Turkey in the Straw" on my fiddle. Take care now, Manly!

ME: So long, TV's Charles Ingalls.

On Friday, I'll poof up my thinning hair, don some suspenders and go to the "something small" ceremony. I may be the only father who shows, but I'll sit and I'll smile and maybe even tear up a little bit when my boy does whatever it is the boy's going to do.

I'll show them all.