Stop your grinnin'...

I know that I officially became a father on December 3rd of 2004, and that I had my first official Father's Day on June 19th of 2005, but yesterday... I truly became a man.

Up until this point, it was up for debate which team I was actually on. Yesterday changed all of that though.

Yep, both of my boys dropped and I officially joined the club.

I guess I've been doing some of the things that men do for a while now. I even have proof that I've had sex once, with a woman even, though Sarah may debate whether I was actually masculine during the event.

It arrived yesterday at 4:00 in the afternoon.

I didn't get a chance to see it delivered, as I was still at work, and had hockey after that. You would think that hockey would make me feel masculine... but no. I play co-ed hockey and when you're doing your best to avoid running into, or even touching, people.. sometimes you feel more like Kristy Yamaguchi than Wayne Gretzky out there.

It was just sitting there when I got home.

Throughout the years, I've had a hard time hanging out with "the guys" in most situations. God help me if anyone brings up a carburetor in conversation. I just have to stare blankly and smile while people talk about valve springs or piston hammers or whatever the hell else could be contained in an engine. For all I know engines are magical devices that are powered by keys that work as silver talisman.

I looked at the jet black matte finish and a sly smile crawled across my face.

Hunting could have been a way for me to claim my manhood, but guns are not really my cup of tea. (See, right there... I used "Cup of Tea." Fit me with a bra and start telling me about my cycle.)

Sarah made me look at the manuals, but I just wanted to to town with it.

Maybe it was all the time that I spent around my mother and my two sisters when I was growing up, but doing all of the manly stuff just wasn't for me.

Until 26 HP of pure mowing glory showed up.

Yes indeed. I now am the proud owner of a lawn tractor.

The tattoos will come later... I'm sure. (Have they figured out a way to tattoo you without pain being involved?)

Ok, so I'm not all man yet, but it's a start.

She's the DJ...

and I'm the Rapper apparently.

Yesterday was my first ever father's day. Father is never really a word that I thought that I would be associated with. This will seem odd, but I thought I would be a dad, but I never thought that I would be considered a father.

I can look back at my childhood and see the role that my actual father didn't play. I didn't really have that "Father" to speak of for the first 8 or so years of my life. Then Dennis came along and he picked up that role and ran with it. I saw both my father and Dennis yesterday and Dennis was the only one that I thought I really needed to say "Happy Father's Day" to.

So, I got home from hockey yesterday morning and found my gift sitting on the counter. Gaby had gotten me a book called, "Why a Daughter needs a Dad: 100 Reasons" and a card. It's a very nice book about why little girls need dads, but it was the card that got me. The envelope just had the word "Dad" on it.

I've been Gaby's dad now for a few months (6, to be exact) but it wasn't until I saw that card that it really struck me. I'm playing a major role in shaping a persons life, and I'm not even screwing it up, all that much, to this point. Who could have thought that was possible?

The majority of the day was spent out at my Grandparents 60th wedding anniversary (Just for perspective, my Great-Grandparents made it to 78 years of marriage before my Great Grandfather passed away at 103.) Gaby is having a very tough time with keeping food down at this point, so my father's day consisted of a great deal of cleaning up baby vomit.

After I opened the gift from Gaby, I walked over to her and gave her a kiss and thanked her for the gift. I then told her that I would not accept a Father's day without a breakfast being made for me in the future. Seriously, could a 6 month old be lazier?

I'm guessing I'll be getting that meal from her next year... she may even spit in it for me, just so I know who's in charge in the house.