{"id":53,"date":"2009-07-08T17:12:10","date_gmt":"2009-07-09T00:12:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/blog\/?p=53"},"modified":"2011-12-24T07:33:27","modified_gmt":"2011-12-24T14:33:27","slug":"once-upon-a-fathers-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/2009\/07\/08\/once-upon-a-fathers-day\/","title":{"rendered":"Once Upon A Father’s Day"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Column To: Mike Sorenson, Editor, <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

06\/11\/2009 Wayne County Mail Newspaper<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 <\/span>Cornucopia<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>by Kate Chamberlin<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span> <\/span>986-1267 E-mail: KATHRYNGC@JUNO.COM<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Copyright \u00a92009 by Kate Chamberlin<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Once upon a father\u2019s day<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Once upon a Father\u2019s Day, this mother remembers feeling shoved aside, useless and forgotten.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Our younger son (then 26) swooped in from out-of-town with his family and declared, \u201cDad, you\u2019re not allowed to do anything today.\u00a0 <\/span>I\u2019m going to do it all.\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>And thus, it was.\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Yes, after all, it\u00a0 <\/span>was Father\u2019s Day.\u00a0 <\/span>Paul enlisted the aid of his then 28-year old brother, Will,\u00a0 <\/span>to go grocery and beverage shopping.\u00a0 <\/span>They came home with more bundles than Dave and I get in a month!<\/span><\/p>\n

Our daughter-in-law had sent her shopping list with Paul and she quickly set her 11-years old daughter to work chopping veggies for dip and a special pasta\/vegetable salad that she is famous for.\u00a0 <\/span>Will iced the beverages and prepared the gas grill, while teasing his Dad a bout how great this was going to be.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n


<\/span><\/p>\n

Paul made quite a flourish of preparing the barbequed ribs and steaks to perfection, reminding his Dad that he knew exactly how to cook them to Dave\u2019s standards.\u00a0 <\/span>He timed the corn to be cooked thoroughly but not mushy exactly when the meat was ready to serve.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our daughter stacked the plates, flatware and napkins on the table, so the buffet could begin whenever the food was ready.\u00a0 <\/span>Dave was reading storybooks to Tyler and John at the far end of the porch.<\/span><\/p>\n

So, where was I?\u00a0 <\/span>Well, they had seated me at my usual spot at the corner of the porch dining table.\u00a0 <\/span>I couldn\u2019t supervise, kibitz or even really know what was going on from that vantage point and it made me frustrated.\u00a0 <\/span>Someone pushed a brew into my hand and said, \u201cisn\u2019t this great, Mom?\u201d\u00a0 <\/span>I wasn\u2019t sure if he meant the party or the brew, but after one sip, I was glad to recognize they\u2019d bought Michelob.\u00a0 <\/span>It didn\u2019t seem right to sit and drink all by myself, so I left it alone.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I heard a small whimper from the open guest room window across the patio from my porch perch. \u00a0<\/span>The others were so busy, they didn\u2019t hear my little, 6-month old granddaughter say her happy nappy was over. I slipped out of my designated chair, avoided the kitchen and went into Paul\u2019s first born, Alexandra Grace.\u00a0 <\/span>I knew right where to find the antique cradle with the real rubber wheels and found she was happily kicking her legs and shaking her blanket.\u00a0 <\/span>She wasn\u2019t startled to see me and she didn\u2019t cry when I changed her tiny diaper.\u00a0 <\/span>She held my fingers with her firm, steady grip as we sat on the floor playing pat-a-cake and singing Row, Row Your Boat.\u00a0 <\/span>She rewarded my singing with gentle, juicy raspberries and snuggled her fuzzy head into my neck when I told her how much her Mimi loved her.\u00a0 <\/span>I didn\u2019t feel shoved aside or useless as long as I was holding this precious , little bundle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Through the open window, I heard plates clink and Tyler ask in his loud child\u2019s voice, \u201cWhere\u2019s Mimi?\u2019\u00a0 <\/span>Up until then, no one had missed me. Even my guide dog stayed slumbering on her porch rug, so, she didn\u2019t miss me either. Eventually, we were discovered and had to rejoined the festivities on the porch.\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Oh Dear Gussie.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>My attitude in the beginning was totally wrong.\u00a0 <\/span>Now I say, \u201clet others do the work and please pass the baby.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Happy Father\u2019s Day to all you Daddies!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a92001, 2009 by Kate Chamberlin)<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u00a0 Column To: Mike Sorenson, Editor, 06\/11\/2009 Wayne County Mail Newspaper \u00a0 Cornucopia \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 by Kate Chamberlin \u00a0 986-1267 E-mail: KATHRYNGC@JUNO.COM \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Copyright \u00a92009 by Kate Chamberlin \u00a0 \u00a0 Once upon a father\u2019s day \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Once upon a Father\u2019s Day, this mother remembers feeling shoved aside, useless and forgotten. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Our younger son (then […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-53","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=53"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":487,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/53\/revisions\/487"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=53"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=53"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/katechamberlin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=53"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}