My Dad and I don't often see eye to eye. He's logical, I'm creative. If I ask him to choose between two anything, I go with the one he didn't choose. But he's still my Dad, and I'm still his little girl(despite being a 27 year old woman). When I was younger, Mom and I would go shopping for tools, shirts, and ties for his Father Day gifts. Over two decades of the same routine eventually resulted in Dad having all the tools, shirts, and ties he could ever need - despite what Canadian Tire tells you.
Then, he got a position in one of those modern companies with an office dog, a ping-pong table, and a beer keg - he never wears a tie now. So that year when Father's Day came around, I went rogue. I abandoned the typical 'Dad' gifts and made him a mix CD for his hour-long drive to his new, hip office. Fergalicious and Bootylicious blared from his car and I was finally an age where I'm no longer embarrassed and can embrace the ridiculous Dad behaviour that I've grown to love and can't image life without.
The next year was harder. I settled on a hand-made card, coupons for a Daddy-Daughter date(paid for by yours truly - easily the best part of the gift), and new CDs by his favourite artists. The year after that, I asked him what he wants. He said a card and quality black socks. I argued a bit; earlier that year, I got a job at a menswear store with experts specializing in formal wear and men's style. The first rule? Socks don't match your outfit - black socks are not what guys are wearing, it's all about patterns, colours, and standing out. 'Peacocking' is back!
So naturally, I went into work with no intentions of buying him black socks - after all, he's working in a modern office with 'lax rules, he needs flair. I bought him two pairs of loud socks and one pair of black ones. I could see him trying to show excitement when he opened them that Sunday morning. The next day, he was eating breakfast after getting dressed for work - he had on those socks. I was so happy to see him wear them, even if it was just to appease me.
Two weeks later, he asked me to pick him up more socks. He loves them. Every gift giving opportunity comes with a brand new pair of socks now. For his birthday last year he got banana socks because he absolutely hates banana and I love irony. He speaks of his funky sock collection proudly at all family and work get-togethers and now has different funky socks for every day of the week.
There might be a few morals or lessons you could take from this story. Obviously, the first one is I was right. The second is... is... I'm not sure. Comment below and let me know what else you took away from this story or share your own tale.