My phone started blowing up about 9PM last night with weather alerts about an impending thunderstorm in the area. Yes, I get weather alerts on my phone. Why do I get them? No clue. Why don’t I turn them off? Don’t want to.
When the first alert hit my lock screen I started running down the tasks on my storm readiness checklist. Check the windows. Make sure the car is in the garage. Check the sump pump (got burned by that last rainstorm). But those aren’t “dad” things. Those are just homeowner things. The “dad”est thing came moments later.
The wind kicked up and I went to shut our front door. The trees in our front yard were bending over at at least a 20 degree angle. The lightning flashing. The thunder rolling. But instead of shutting the front door, I opened it. I stepped out on the front porch in my socks no less, and proceeded to march to the center of my front yard with the slow gait of a white walker following the Night King. I paused, looked toward the sky and just stared. Then with my hands on my hips I turned in a circle, looked in all directions and said what every dad says in that situation...“hmmm”.
So what happened next? Did I walk back in the house through the front door? Of course not. I walked around to the back of the house in wet socks, stepped on the deck, put my hands on my hips, looked to the sky and said…”hmmm.” And then realized the patio door was locked and had to go back to the front of the house to get in. The “dad”est thing ever. The only thing that could have made it more "dad" would be had I done it wearing a pair of cargo shorts with an insatiable desire to start mowing the lawn.
I don’t know exactly when I turned into that guy, I have crossed the Rubicon and there’s no going back. The only thing to do is embrace it. So if you’ll please excuse me, I have to go fix the toaster with a butter knife.