Mean Dad

Although we had a great family day--complete with soccer, flying a kite (or unsuccessfully attempting to do so), dinner at the new Cafe Rio with friends, and ice cream at Cold Stone--I feel like a mean Dad. First, I talked my son out of wearing his Spider Man costume to play soccer, mainly because he was so busy watching his cape flap around at last week's game that he didn't seem to notice he was in the middle if a game. Second, I ran so fast with the kite to try and keep it in the air that my little girl couldn't keep up and began to cry and I ran over my son in the process. Third, as my daughter's ice cream cone was dripping I offered to lick the edges for her, and, just as she handed her cone to me, I dropped it on the ground. Of course, my kids went to bed happy and probably haven't given a second thought to any of this. It seemed that this family day was one of our most fun together, and I tried to make up for any tears caused by my sternness or clumsiness today, but a father's guilt continues to linger sometimes. It did help that we got to work on a little Mother's Day secret tonight, and that I got to read to them and put them to bed. If my kids read this, the'd probably think I was a big mush ball. Who wouldn't be with kids like mine?