Yesterday was fathers day in Belgium. Had a very nice one. Waffles for breakfast (Since Belgians don’t have them for breakfast, this was an American exception.) A lunch out at our favorite restaurant ( appropriately distanced). But the real treat came in the afternoon when my wife went to visit her own father and I was able to spend time with kids in the afternoon. My 4 and 7 year old boys. Just the 3 of us.
What started out as a love-in, soon evolved into wild animals devouring the keeper of the cheetos. These loving boys sprouted horns and sharp teeth, breathing fire, and slicing with their claws, leaving no furniture unscarred. The cats ran in desperate fear. The boys pulled out the costume box and soon one was a dragon and the other a tiger. If an innocent Belgian were to walk by our house, he or she would see it shaking violently, the sound of wild snarls and dragon growls emitting from its chaotic bowels. Occasionally a shoe or food product getting thrown from a window. “When are you home?” I texted my wife in a panic. “Soon” she replied. Which to me meant, she was not on her way home. I still had a chance at pulling out the tranquilizer gun. It was my job to make sure some image of control was presented when Mom stepped through the door. It was like Cat and the Hat.
I finally suggested we sit down at the table and draw. I drew the drawing above of my afternoon experience. When Mom walked through the door. The house was cleaned up, the shoe was brought in from the street. All seemed calm. Except Mom found a stray dragon costume on the floor.
“Well” I shrugged. “I had a great Fathers day!”