My kids made me bracelets for the first time.
There are randomly colored beads, pink, blue, green, yellow, white, red, green. Some smiley faces, some flowers, an octopus, some eyeball-looking beads. Some stars, a moon, and some random letters.
And they’re my favorite things in the entire world now, and short of showers and exercise, I’m seldom going to not be wearing them.
Even before I had kids, whenever I’d see a guy wearing some bracelet or some accessory that was clearly made by their children, I always thought it was sweet, and I admired their sense of security at not being embarrassed or afraid to wear their children’s creations, and I knew that those were the kinds of dads that I wanted to be more like rather than some stuffy stooge of a dad that doesn’t move the needle of what it takes to be a modern, supportive and loving father in this day and age. Few things irk me as when I see content insinuating dads are distant deadbeats and have no connection to their kids, but at the same time I understand how that narrative came to be, and why it’s still in such prevalence.
All I really want in my life is to be the type of dad who breaks that sad mold, and be the type of dad that people can look at and talk about as being someone who loves the hell out of their children, is unafraid and apologetic about show affection and doing corny things like wearing princess apparel or colorful bracelets and other handmade jewelry.
Over the last few years, watching my kids grow and seeing their interests come and go, ebb and flow, I’ve always been waiting for the time in which they might, in some of their budding arts and crafts explorations, be in a position to make me a bracelet or a necklace, or some other accessory.
That day has finally come, in which a mini bead and bracelet set was provided to them, and I came home to find that they had each made me a bracelet, and I couldn’t have been more over the moon to put them on and wear them with pride and love for my perfect kids.
And much like them, they are my treasures.
