Fathers' Chocolate Filling

I have no idea where we'll be when you read this. Somewhere, Montana. Almost, Wyoming. I'm writing an advance post in case our biking roads don't come with Internet access.

I'll publish this on Friday though its Father's Day as I write. This morning my Dad made bacon and eggs while I slept late. When we all sat down at the table my Mother said, "Happy Father's Day."

Doh.

I sit between my father and the father of my child, the two men I admire most, and completely forget this holiday in their honor.

Before the trip I remembered. My first Father's Day with my dad since college. How cool to be with both men at once. I imagined making them breakfast and surprising them with thoughtful gifts all day long.

But no. I forgot.

My solace is knowing I can choose another day. Call it Dad's day. Make dark coffee with buttermilk pancakes. Go for a morning stroll then send Nick fishing and my dad to a shady corner with a historical biography. I can serve them cold beers and popcorn throughout the afternoon and cook a juicy steak for dinner. Elias and I can make a chocolate pie with strawberries for dessert.

And when these forgiving men grow sleepy, I can tell them I love them over and over again.

And Elias does too.

Comments

[Mary]

Hey, all of you...
We here on Armour Dr. are following every bump, puff, and ZZZZ you are feeling. Thank you so much for sharing it with us. Christy, your writings are so enjoyable.
Thanks again. And, to you, Jol and Susan..."WE MISS YOU!"

Mary