Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Eat your heart out, Hallmark.

My 9-year old son locked himself in our office last night.

Unless you are Mommy or Daddy, locking yourself in the office is a big no-no in our house, what with the computer being in the office.

When I went to unlock the door, I was greeted by a sign on the door. On it was scrawled in pencil, "KEEP OUT, DAD!!! SIGNED, (name of shortie)"

Instantly, I knew I had nothing to worry about, because my husband Bill's birthday was the next day. When I asked my son in a loud whisper what he was up to, he said, "SHHHH, Mom! I'm making a card for Dad."

How sweet. A card for Dad.

By all means, continue your card-making, oh son of mine.

He emerged from the office a short while later with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He was carrying a green envelope in his hand, and as he saw me, he whispered, "I got it! It's a card for Dad tomorrow!"

Today is Bill's birthday.

My 9-year old son came bounding down the stairs this morning two at a time, carrying the same green envelope. My kids had a group card for their Dad, but this was a special one that my son made all on his own.

My boy was proud of his work.

He beamed as he handed the card to Bill with a hug and smile and a, "Happy Birthday, Dad!"

My husband slid the card from its envelope. He was greeted with an adorable, hand-drawn picture of a cake, several sparkler candles, the number 37, and many, many exclamation points.

Handmade cards are the best, aren't they?

As Bill opened the card, my son stood at his side, still beaming.

My boy was proud of his work.

It was quite a moment.

Bill read the words aloud to all of us, as we convened in the kitchen for breakfast and our usual morning rush. He began reading the words our son had written."What describes Dad."

He paused, patted our son on the back and said, "Thanks! This is such a nice card!"

Bill continued reading the words that described him.

"Dude. Awesome. Dude."

How sweet! The words that my son had written spelled out the word, "Dad"!

It tugged at my heartstrings. I looked over at my son, who was grinning ear to ear. He began to chuckle quietly to himself because he was so happy.

My boy was proud of his work.

Bill kept reading the other words that described him. "Fun! Awesome! Radical! Too Cool! Extra Funny! Dude!"

It was a precious moment.

Just precious.

Such wonderful words like, "Radical" came from my son!

My boy.

It touched my heart, I tell you.

As I looked over at my son, I was confused to see that his smile and small chuckles had turned into full-blown laughter. He was doubled over.

Hmmm. My shortie was up to something. I just knew it.

It was then that my husband realized that all the wonderful words that my son used to describe him were arranged a certain way. They were all arranged so that the first letter of the word stood out. When listed together, they spelled, "D.A.D.F.A.R.T.E.D."

Dad farted.

As in, "Happy Birthday, oh Daddio. You know I think you're awesome, and thanks for always playing with us, and providing for us, and clothing us, and selflessly sacrificing time and money so that we can have the great life we live. We feel so loved. But Dad? You farted."


So very, very obsessed with bodily functions.

Who else but a little boy could manage to link birthdays and farting?

My boy was proud of his work.


  1. That is hilarious! It definitely sounds like a card that would be given in this family. Ha!

  2. This? Is the sign of genius. And I should know. I am raising three geniuseseses over here myself.

  3. love this. And I'll take a home made card any day!


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