My dad was not exciting. He left every morning, at the same time, and came home every evening, at the same time. Every Saturday he came to Confession with us, and every Sunday he came to Mass with us. I still have my report cards from school: he signed every one of them. Yes, he was definitely boring.

My dad was not romantic. We don‟t remember him coming home with flowers or chocolates or jewels for mom. He was so unromantic that, one evening, he drove us all to this store in Rome (where we lived), and guided us in front the window, where a big crowd was gathered. In the middle of the display, were a lady and a washing machine; you know, one of those round machines with a wringer. We had never seen one. We stood watching fascinated as the lady took the clothes out of the washer, run them through the wringer and then showed them to the watching crowd, “dry” and clean. Next week, mom had one. One summer, while we were enjoying the fresh air of the Alps in grandpa‟s cabin, he had all the house furniture refinished, so it looked brand new when we got back.  Like I said, not a romantic bone in his body.

My dad had no imagination. It never occurred to him to change jobs, to dream of a huge house, to get us fancy cars. In fact, he did not have enough imagination to get into debt. I shudder to think what he would have done had we shown up with a ring in our nose or blue hair. First: we wouldn‟t have had the money; second, he probably would have burst out laughing and told us to get rid of … whatever.  My dad was demanding. He expected us to get good grades at school, to be at home for lunch and dinner, to sit straight, to keep our elbows off the table and not bite off a chunk of bread with our teeth. When we were older and wanted to hang around with friends on Sunday afternoons, he expected us to be back by 7:00 pm, no ifs, ends or buts. He expected us to be respectful, and if we used a “bad” word, it would cost us money (of course, he never heard of Dr. Spock).

Talking a bout money: my dad was stingy. Yep. We got all of the equivalent of 10 cents every week for our allowance, and when we turned 13, we would get a whopping 50 cents. Let‟s see, in today‟s prices, it would be the equivalent of $2.50. Nothing more folks.  Stingy, that‟s what he was.

Thank God! Thank God that my dad was not exciting, romantic, imaginative, demanding or a spendthrift! Thank God. Because he was reliable.  We did not realize it at the time, but our lives were serene, secure, because Dad was watching over us, and wanted to be with us, because we meant more to him than all the excitement in the world.

Thank God, he was not romantic, because he was practical and saw to it that mother, and us, had everything that we needed and that would make our life easier (remember the washing machine?).

Thank God, he was not imaginative, because he was faithful. He was convinced that my mom was the most beautiful creature God ever made, and he never got “whiplash” when another lady walked by; he was not tempted by suggestive pictures, magazines or anything else.

Thank God, he was demanding, because he gave us self esteem. He acted like we were bright, dependable and valuable. We believed him, and we had confidence in ourselves.

Thank God he was stingy (cheap), because he taught us the value of money and of what was true treasure. He brought his pay home every month, and went around with maybe $1.00 in his wallet.  Our “entertainment” was also cheap. In the summer, mom would pack a picnic lunch: dad would cut the salami and buy a watermelon. Then, packed in our small car, we‟d head for a likely spot: a small creek was a must, because that‟s where the watermelon would cool off! I can still see dad‟s huge smile as we sat on a blanket and enjoyed our “al fresco” meal. There was nothing that he liked better than spending time with us.

So, to all of you fathers out there, who are not exciting or romantic, have no imagination, are demanding and stingy: Way to Go! God bless you, because your wife is sure of your love, and your children will blossom in your home like flowers in a well-tended garden. My siblings and I never even asked our friends how much of an allowance they got, or what time they had to be home. You know why? Because we were secure in the knowledge that dad loved us, and we didn’t care about anything else. (Pssst: if you are exciting etc., you still have time to change!)

Happy Father’s Day!