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“Let’s see those Chinese acrobats do this!!!”

“I’ve got you, buddy. Just a little further.”

My five year old son wants to go camping with me. I have a choice: I could run screaming to the garage and bury myself in an “important” project like scrubbing the Rorschach-like oil stains from the floor, or I could take this chance to bond with my little guy and let him have a blast.

I’ve never liked camping. My idea of roughing it is buying generic toilet paper, and I’ve even been known to go so far as to purchase day old croissants. I’m not saying I’m not a manly-man… I mean, I can build stuff, kill bugs and I’ve yet to meet a pickle jar I cannot pop open in less than three grunts – and oh yeah, I don’t eat quiche.

My Florida, surfer-pastor-friend Chip M. is a one of a kind dad. While in Jacksonville, he showed me one of his favorite tattoos. Wow!!! I told him to send me a picture, so I could share it with you. Here it is!

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One day I found a pair of Channelock pliers when I raked up some composted leaves in the front yard. The joint was welded absolutely solid by rust so that the handles could not be budged! I made a wall plaque for my dad by mounting them to the face of a piece of maple. Underneath was an inscription; “Now my son has sons! Happy Father’s Day!
~Doug”

Personally I can’t wait to leave my old shoes and pool towels in his car when I visit. Let him explain it to his boss if something squeaks or is sticky.
~Kirk

Hey Dad,
I just had to write while the iron is hot. It’s therapeutic for me to blab to 10,000 dads that my children are—how do I say this gently? *PIGS!!!!* Our children do chores, and they have responsibilities. We train them, we dole out consequences when they don’t do a job well, we work on specifics, and still, they’re PIGS!!!

The mess that nine people can create is overwhelming at times. We can work all day cleaning up one area, and then, whal-la, like magic, it’s trashed again within about 13 minutes.

Hey Dad,
Just heard about another dad who got caught in the web of INTERNET pornography (maybe that’s why they call it the world wide web). Man, I hate that! I’m not shocked or appalled…just saddened. I mean, satan knows what kind of bait to use when he goes fishing for men.

I’m sure that dad didn’t anticipate where it would lead. It began with a simple click of the mouse when no one was looking. Afterwards, he begged forgiveness from God and promised himself that it would never happen again. But it did.

I heard somewhere that if you want to be a spiritual giant, you need to have family devotions. All the great men of the faith did; at least that’s what everyone says. Apparently, they got up a couple of hours before dawn, gathered the family around the table, read the Scriptures for two hours, prayed for three, and then sang great hymns of the faith, while the children listened quietly as mice.