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Failing at Father’s Day

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I grew up in a pretty traditional household. My mother was a circus contortionist and my father sold venomous snakes door to door. And party hats. He said the hats made a good sideline with the snakes.

Of course, I'm kidding.

I grew up in a standard Italian household in which all domestic duties were carefully and equitably balanced. The women prepared, cooked and served the food and the men were in charge of talking, gesturing wildly and pouring wine. Generally, for themselves. As a kid, I thought this was a great deal and would join my father and my uncles at the table, learning how to talk loudly and wave my hands around madly. The wine would come later.

I tell this story because I think it's important that fathers play an integral part in child-rearing and the running of the household. For example, in my own marriage, I attempted to duplicate the excellent model set by my father, who would simply sit at the table expecting dinner.

The first night I did this, I was waiting there for........

© Peterborough Examiner