The lost art of daddyhood

We’re coming up on our second Father’s Day, and the expectation is that it will be exponentially better than our first. Last year we had plans to go to Dupont Circle, have a picnic and then stage our own little Gay Family Pride Parade, tooling around the neighborhood showing off our adorable progeny. But JJ got sick, so we ended up at the Montgomery Mall food court for lunch. Papa and I were pretty miserable, but JJ had fun yelling in code to all the other babies there — like all mall food courts, the acoustics are such that every noise is multiplied a thousandfold. And babies love to hear themselves holler…

So in anticipation of this year’s Dad’s Day, I think back on the last year: what’s been the greatest joy, the hardest hardship, and especially – what have I passed onto my son that I can be proud of. I’m not gonna be the Dad that teaches his son how to rebuild the engine of a Camaro (although I can teach him how to drive stick). And while I can show him how to hit or catch or throw a ball, he will probably surpass my skill level before he’s out of diapers. But what I can teach him is to appreciate art. And that starts with his first set of chunky Crayolas.

So here’s a few shots from our first colorin’ session. Enjoy! I know I sure did.

These photos are from a couple of months ago, just so you won’t think I’m a big slacker. And I’ll be sure to post any wall, furniture or dog art that follows.