We celebrated Father's Day last night because everybody had other places to be today. So for dinner Ken Cannon and I went to a taco cart on State Street. This, may I add, is the upside of being empty-nesters.
Anyway, I noticed Ken was looking at a group of kids with a tiny smile on his face. "They're pretty cute, aren't they," he observed.
And they were. That's true. But what I loved is that he noticed. Ken was the youngest child in his family, and he frankly didn't have a lot of experience with kids when we married, nor did he find them particularly interesting. So I think it was a huge surprise to him that he had so many of his own. There was a learning curve to be sure. But he stepped up to the plate (always happy to use a baseball metaphor when speaking of my husband) and took care of his own. I can't tell you how much I respect that.
And now all these years later, he's happy to let other people's kids knock his socks off, too.
Happy Father's Day, Ken.