As we walked out the front door, Debbie asked, “Did I turn off the coffee pot?”
I said, “Don’t worry about it. Even if you didn’t, it’ll turn off by itself in a little while.”
I got “the look” as Debbie turned around and went back into the house to double-check the coffee pot. As usual, it was turned off. Debbie doesn’t forget things like turning off the coffee pot.
Turned off? Not turned off? For me, it really didn’t make that much difference. That may be one of the many reasons why we get along so well.
We worry about different things. We stress over different things, but we almost always laugh about the same things.
Like many couples, we have our marriage license hanging just inside our front door. Many years ago, late at night, as we walked into the house with our arms full of groceries, I bumped the framed of our license and it started to fall. I reached out and trapped it against the wall before it hit the floor. Debbie giggled when I told her that I still had catlike reflexes.
Without turning on the lights, I found the nail and rehung our marriage license on the wall.
Many weeks later, as Debbie came in from getting the mail, she asked me why our marriage license was hanging upside down. My immediate response was, “That’s an international sign of distress.” We both laughed.
This past Sunday, I think it dawned on me why we haven’t had a major disagreement in the 30 years since we met. The key to our success must be that Debbie willingly puts up with me. Regardless of the dumb things I do or the bone-headed projects I take on, Debbie just smiles and lets me do my “thing.”
Yet, whenever I get carried away with something, Debbie keeps me grounded.
Years ago, I was a single parent. It was just Josh and Danny and me. There were times back then when our lives seemed like something right out of a TV situation comedy. The boys always had their chores to do, but we spent a lot of time laughing and playing together.
I always tried to determine where that fine line was between being a responsible parent and being their big buddy.
Although that line shifted frequently, one year for Father’s Day the boys got me a small, oval-shaped wall hanging of a little guy wearing a crown. It bore the words, “The World’s Greatest Dad.” I proudly drove a nail into the wall and hung my award in the small wall-space between our bedrooms.
At the time, we lived on Westfield Drive. I took it as an honor that the neighborhood kids would often knock on our door and want to know if Josh and Danny could come out to play football in the street. Then, as they scampered away to choose up sides, they would yell back to ask me if I would be the full-time quarterback.
Whatever else I was doing at the time would be set aside. I had to play street-football.
On really hot summer days, I would take a quick break from street-football and run to Bob & Carl’s grocery to buy several big boxes of Popsicles. The kids would then gather in our front yard as I passed out all the Popsicles they could eat. I would remind the kids, “There is no such thing as too many Popsicles.”
Over the years, as both a husband and a dad, I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ve gone overboard on many things. There were times when I let my job become more important than spending time with my family. There were times when I would become impatient because I wanted to do too several things at one time.
But, Josh and Danny were there to help keep me focused. Now, Debbie keeps me grounded.
I’ve always tried to keep a grasp on the fun things in life that unite our family. Being seen as the goofy dad playing street-football was just fine with me. Looking goofy still doesn’t bother me.
On Sunday, Josh, Amanda and Danni Grace took me to a Cincinnati Reds game for Father’s Day.
Late in the game, between innings, we were jamming and dancing to the Reds’ music. We were so “into it” that we looked up and saw ourselves on the Reds’ Jumbotron. The entire stadium got to enjoy our whacky moves as we enthusiastically chair-danced to the music. Being goofy is OK.
Being a good husband and being a good dad is serious business, but being too serious about it can get in the way of what’s truly important – being a loving husband and dad – having fun.
There are thousands of little “World’s Greatest Dad” plaques hanging on walls around America. I like to think that mine is the only one that counts.
Our marriage license is still hanging upside down by the front door. Both are a constant reminder of the importance of love, laughter, joy and being a little goofy.
Randy Riley is President of Council of Wilmington.
