An old dad's baggage

My parents were always proud of me, and I was proud of them. It always seemed to me that my mom and dad didn't have any problems other than my problems. They loved me, and they loved each other. It seemed they had gotten all the arguments out of their system before I came along. They never raised their voices to one another except in jest. They weren't worried about their jobs or money. As a matter of fact, they seemed to worry about nothing but me and my sister.

There was one big downside to my parents' age. They both died when I was 45. I was with my mom and dad for about half of their lives. Because they were old when they had me, and I was old when I had Moxie and Zolten, my parents will never meet my kids and, even as I type this, it makes me cry. There won't be a year of my life where I send and receive a Father's Day card. That's a big downside.

On the upside, I hope I've learned something from being alive this long that will make me a better dad. Moxie and Zolten will be asked if I'm their grandfather, but that'll be the least of their embarrassments. They'll also have a dad with a stupid beard and hair down his back talking atheism at the PTA meeting. If they say the name of their dad's TV show in school, they'll be punished.

They'll have a dad who's a Las Vegas magician, and that's embarrassing whatever age he is.

I better buy them two ponies each.