Joy the Baker

It seems that the further I get into adulthood the more I understand my parents.  I also seem to be turning into my parents, which is three things: frightening, seemingly inevitable, and a topic for another time.

Since we are approaching Father’s Day, let me tell you the thing I’ve come to understand about my Dad.  All he wants for Father’s Day is time.  Simple, right?  He wants time with the family eating fish tacos at Island’s.  Time in the kitchen helping make a sweet potato pie.  Time going to an old Hollywood theater to see a re-released Alfred Hitchcock movie.  A phone call.  A text message.  Just a thought that turns into time.

Maybe it’s because all of his kids are grown and out of the house, but my Dad doesn’t require a trip to the mall, a striped tie from JCrew or a new pair of slippers.  He just wants his kids to call and say “Hey Dad, let’s go out to dinner next Friday.  There’s a new Italian restaurant I want to try!”  It’s such a small thing and his voice always betrays the lift in his heart.

Happy Father’s Day Dad.  Thanks for teaching me how to bake in our tiny pea green kitchen.

Authors Note:  My father was such a great Dad because he had the love, support and unconditional partnership of his lovely wife, my Mom.  They’re a force.  And I love them so.

Are you baking for you Dad this Father’s Day?  I was thinking of re-releasing this Zucchini Sweet Potato Bread since my Dad devoured it last time he came to visit.