Twelve Rules

All of our lives we're surrounded by rules.

"Don't run in the hallway."

"Don't play ball in the house."

"No shoes. No shirt. No service."

All to often, these rules tell us what not to do. And they're usually very context specific. It seems to me there are twelve very basic rules that are foundational to the rest. (Yes, I'm ignoring the "golden rule," all ten of the commandments and every other form of religious doctrine.)

These rules are more about what to do. They apply to work, parenting, gardening, and life in general. The quick list is:

1. Keep your word.
2. Do your best. Always.
3. When you have to eat a turd, don't nibble.
4. Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.
5. When the job is done, walk away.
6. Don't believe. Verify.
7. You panic. You drown.
8. Choices have consequences.
9. Clean up after yourself.
10. Leave room for chaos.
11. Life ain't fair.
12. Be the quiet fox.

TheKiddo™would probably tell you I have lots more rules than that. Admittedly, I do still yell, "Look both ways"! as she's crossing the street. So she would have a point. My counter, however, would be that I'm merely reminding her of rule 2, and crossing the street without looking isn't her best.

Be a dad, not just a father.

It's a daddy thing. You wouldn't understand.

Any Tom, Dick or Harry can be a father. All he needs is some healthy sperm and a woman willing to procreate with him.

It's genetic. It's natural. It's simple. And it's not enough.

Our children deserve more.

They deserve unconditional love and guidance. They deserve rules, structure and discipline. They deserve to have someone who is proud of them and wants them to succeed.

They deserve dads.

The distinction between a father and a dad may seem like a small semantic shift that is only to be found in a thesaurus. It's not. It's deeper. And it's far from simple. Being a dad requires commitment, dedication and a selflessness that is all too tiring at times. Because it requires time—the one thing that work, bills and being an adult leaches from us each day.

Fathers are nothing more than sperm donors who may (or may not) provide some financial support.

Dads have a much longer list of duties. It's a list that grows exponentially longer as the children grow.

Dads work for the man all day, and then leave the stress, pressure and disappoint at the office in order to be present in the lives of their children.

Dads show up to little league games, dance recitals, practices, and parent-teacher meetings.

Dads take road trips to make the away games even when it conflicts with .

Dads make breakfast on the weekends just because they can.

Dads help with homework, and teach children how to throw, climb, fish, swim, grill a perfect steak and so many other things.

Dads hug for no reason other than it feels good, and sometimes because they need the hug more than anyone else.

Dads carry pink backpacks, purses, shopping bags, dolls and anything else their children are tired of lugging around but refuse to leave behind.

Dads worry, plan, hope and pray about every little thing—every single day. And rarely let anyone know.

Dads get up each and every day, put their pants on, roll their sleeves up, do whatever it takes to provide for their families, and finish the day knowing it was a good day because everyone is healthy, clothed and fed.

Dads do what has to be done. And expect nothing more than a smile and "I love you, daddy" for payment.

Be a dad. It will make the world an infinitely better place for us, for our children and for every generation to follow.