Last year for Father’s day, my sister and her (now) fiance had their dads over for an elaborate brunch of smoked salmon bagels (with red onions, cream cheese, and lemon, of course) and a fancy version of pigs in blankets, accompanied by nice coffee, prepared for by the daughters (who were prepared by mimosas).
If smoked salmon is on the menu, it’s in my dad’s tumtum. Most of our family gatherings feature it, and this Father’s day would have been no different.
We might have gotten him new clothes. Gifts were always a new black or brown leather belt, a long sleeve polo, or a gift card to Mark’s Work Wearhouse (but he would give us a price limit to how much we could put on).
Mostly, it would have been family time. We would have all sat around to eat, drink, and talk, as we did surprisingly often. Plus, “happy wife, happy life” (in a less bitter tone than TV shows seem to use).