Happy Father's Day!

The other day, after I picked Marley up from school, Jeff offered to take him outside to run around while I made dinner.  One of the things that makes Jeff such a great dad is his seemingly endless energy for play.  I used to joke that one of the reasons we decided to have kids was so Jeff could have someone to play with.  On this particular day, when they still hadn't returned an hour later, I gave Jeff a call.

Me: Are you guys coming home for dinner, or what?
Jeff: Yes.  What time is it?
Me: Almost 7 o'clock. 
Jeff: Oh crap!  We lost track of time!
Me: Where are you guys?
Jeff: Um...a park.
Me: Which park?
Jeff: Alki Elementary.
Me: WHAT?!?  You walked all the way down there?

Lack of planning is another hallmark of Jeff's parenting.  I would NEVER just start walking to the beach without running down my very extensive checklist.  When's the last time Marley used the bathroom?  Do I have a change of clothes for him?  Are we bringing the stroller or the carrier?  What about extra shoes?  We should probably bring a water bottle.

I could go on, but you get the point.  Jeff, on the other hand, skipped the whole checklist thing and took off with Marley (clad in his winter coat, shark hat, sunglasses, and brand new Spiderman shoes).  WHY on earth would he do this???  Because Marley wanted to go to the beach.  Herein lies the flaw of my over-planning ways.  With me, it can be hours before we actually get out the door...or never.  If Marley had asked me to go to the beach at six o'clock on a Thursday night, I would have said, "No."

If it had been up to me that night, Marley would have missed out on jumping over mud puddles, feeling the leaves of a fern, getting stung by nettles, listening to the evening sounds of the park, and hanging from the monkey bars. 

No matter how much I cringe at the thought of myself tromping through muddy Schmitz Park, bound for the beach.  On a weeknight.  With no supplies.  I'm secretly pleased by the thought of Jeff doing it.  My heart melts every time I hear Marley say, "I want to (shave my face/wear my hat/pee standing up/ride my bike) just like my Daddy."  This is a kid who adores his dad.  Who wouldn't?  He only has, like, the funnest dad in the world!

Lest you think Jeff's mad parenting skills stop at kids too young to enjoy skipping rocks and digging in the dirt, you should know that he embraces all things baby, as well.  When I replaced his Snugli infant carrier with a Moby wrap, his only remark was, "Well, I guess I'd better figure out how to use this thing."  He's not afraid to change a poopy diaper either.  A cloth one.  That requires folding.  I love that man.

Other fathers of note include: My Dad, who doubles as the funny kazoo-playing Grandpa; and Jeff's Dad, who we got to see this weekend, and who Marley has recently termed, "Grandpa Boston."  Happy Father's Day!