Happy Father's Day!

Aren't dad's interesting?  They are very peculiar creatures!  They have permission to do a host of things no one else can do.  They can belch and pass gas whenever they want and nobody says a word.  They can work on something that needs repaired, break it and go buy a new whatever, and nothing is said about it - just the silent nod from the mom that says, "Knew that was coming, just like always", and the nod from other guys at the hardware store saying, "Yep. I've been there, too." Dads are allowed to "play rough" with the kids - wrestle, chase, run, body slam, you name it.  People would frown if moms did those things.  Dad's are allowed to work all day and then come home a plop in their easy chair.  Moms work all day and then come home and work all night.  Dads are allowed to eat supper and then meander off somewhere leaving mom to clean the mess.  Dads are allowed to be in a bad mood and lose their temper occasionally.  Moms must always have a positive attitude and maintain self-control at all times.  Dads are allowed to tell off-colored jokes.  Dads can rev the engine while sitting at the stoplight.  Moms would just look silly if they did that! Dads have calloused hands, and dirty hands.  Dads have stinky, un-pedicured feet. Dads can wear mis-matched clothes.  Dads can wear dirty clothes. Dads can have hobbies and interests. Moms have the kids and housework.  Dads don't have to be home at any given time - they just stroll in whenever.  If moms are late, they are flooded with phone calls - "Where are you?"  "Are you making supper?" "When are you coming home?"
Dads have few responsibilities. Mowing the yard and "fixing" stuff comes to mind.  Moms have to keep house, doctor the kids, know everyone's schedule, make doctor's appointments, remember which child is allergic to what medications, remember the names of all their children's friends, and on and on.  Dads just show up.  They don't even have to pay attention when you are talking to them - everyone says, "That's just how he is."
But dads play one of the most vital roles in a child's life.  Dads set the stage for a child's self-worth.  Most things a kid does is to make his dad proud.  And a father's love is (or should be) totally unconditional.  Dads demonstrate to their children how to treat a lady and how to love your wife.  Most of their moral ethics are copied by their children, good and bad.
I want to say a big "thank you" to my dad for teaching me how to do boy stuff, even though I was a girl. For taking me fishing and untangling my line a thousand times.  For playing catch with me on a hot summer evening, after he had worked all day in the heat and was totally worn out.  For only being married once - to my mom.  For making me go to church and demonstrating that it was important.  For driving a church bus to pick up dirty stinky kids and bring them to church, teaching me that God has no boundaries.  For attending all my extra-curricular activities, even when they weren't his cup of tea.  For loving me even when I wasn't very lovable.  For loving and interacting with my kids just the same as he did with me.  For working hard and not taking vacations so we could have a roof over our head. For trying to do the best job he knew how to do at parenting.  Thanks Dad, I love you!!

The Money Changer

I stopped by a local grocery store, and purchased two items.  The total came to $6.80.  I handed the cashier $7.00.  Not sure what she typed into her computer, but the next thing that popped up was my change due, $5.32.  She gets out a five dollar bill and starts to hand it to me. I say, "Wasn't my total $6.80?" She replies "Yes." I say, "So, you don't owe me $5.32. I gave you seven dollars, so you owe me twenty cents." Most people would have thanked me and handed me twenty cents.  Not this one.  She begins looking at her computer screen, rifling through her change drawer and calling for help.  Meanwhile, I'm standing there saying, "Twenty cents.  You just owe me twenty cents.  My change should be twenty cents."  Finally, someone tells her to just give me the correct change.  Now she begins saying, "Ok. Seven dollars...ummm, Ok. Six dollars and eighty cents....ummm."  Rifling through the change drawer again, digging out a quarter and a nickel.  I am still repeating, "Twenty cents. My change is twenty cents."  Finally I see her grab two dimes.  At last!  My twenty cents!
So, would you want this girl handling your cash?