I am a father to the best kid a dad could ever ask for. A little boy who will many times a day, very matter-of-factly, tell me that he loves me and smile. A boy who will stop playing with his cars or trains, just to appease his old man with a kiss on the cheek. A boy who joyfully says hello to every passer by, and offers stories of his wonderful life to all who will listen. He is unconditional love personified.

It pains me deeply to know that he will slowly grow out of this beautiful innocence as the curtains of life draw back. I know that as they do, it is my duty to teach him right from wrong, to treat others as he would want to be treated, and to love his neighbors. But, as an old friend of mine liked to say, “innocence is the last rebellion.” And he couldn’t have been more profoundly right. So I will do everything in my power to protect that part of him, to shelter him from the noise that surrounds us, to keep him from growing up too fast, and try and instill in him a joy for life and love that stays with him always.

I am a husband to the best wife a man could ever ask for. She’s an incredibly patient woman who, for some reason, continues to stick by me through the thick and thin of careers, marriage, parenthood, and family life. She’s a passionate, supportive and encouraging woman who has always wanted the most and the best for me our son, and for everyone around her. And she’s a loving wife and mother, who unconditionally gives of herself for her family. So it is my duty then, to give her as much of myself, my patience, passion, support, encouragement and love as I possibly can.

I am blessed because God loves me, and has seen fit to grant me the best life that any man could ever ask for. He has blessed me with the most amazing kid, and a beautiful, loving wife. He has blessed me with great parents, who by their own example, taught me how to be a good father, and a good husband. I am blessed because I was born into a country whose founders, and generations of their children, have sacrificed, and worked hard to try and keep the curtains closed, so that their children could live lives without worry, full of wonder and love. And so I owe it to HIM and them, to be the best dad, the best husband, and the best servant that a son or wife or Holy Father could ever ask for.

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Finally, I’d like to ask all who read this to say a special Father’s Day prayer for the father of Neda, the young Iranian woman whose gut-wrenching death has been shown ad nauseam on cable news over the last few days. I can not fathom the kind of sorrow her father must have felt as he watched his daughter die. I can only hope that somewhere in the midst of that immense pain, was a comfort that he could be with her as she left this life, and pray that he is able to tempter his sadness with the happy memories of their life together.

For the 8-10 of you that still bother, a Happy Mother’s Day to you.  Hope it was a good one.  Mine was spent taking care of the boy, and actually messing around with the blog (gasp).  I upgraded to the latest WordPress, which is really pretty cool, and I put a few new widgets over there on the right (go buy stuff so Amazon will send me money).  Oh, and I uploaded a few old BIYFilms… enjoy.

I’m not going to say I’ll effort to post more, because much like the bullies in kindergarten who mocked my very 70s-plaid pants (thanks mom!), you’ll just laugh and point.  But don’t be surprised if things start to pick up a bit around here in the coming weeks.  You see, BIYM and I were trying to recall something funny that Albert had done the other day. When we came to the sad realization that we’d completely forgotten, I decided to try and do better, to try and keep a better record of the funny stories, quotes and moments together.    I owe it to myself, BIYM and the boy to remember.  

Finally, to my baby-momma… I love you.  Thank you for all that you do, and all that you are.  You’re an amazing wife, and one hell of a mom…  Albert and I are lucky dudes.

And then I thought about detailing my phone conversation with BIYM this morning after I got to work, in which we both tried to convince each other that, despite the fact neither of us had wished the other a happy anniversary before I left for work, we hadn’t actually forgotten.

And then I thought about explaining why, on the night of our anniversary, I’m not taking her to dinner and a movie, but am instead playing in a charity poker tournament (hey, it is for charity people).

Ultimately, however, I’ve decided to post an entry which truly captures the spirit of why I love my wife so much. Oh, I love her for her body. Have you seen my wife people? She’s hot! And, of course, I also love her because she’s smart, funny, caring, and most importantly puts up with poker, fantasy football and all of my other bullshit. But one of the biggest reasons I love my wife, is because she just says the most wonderful things sometimes. So, carrying on in the fine tradition of notable quotables from the love of my life, I bring you her latest collection of gems…

“Look, I can pick his nose with the little pointy thingy, cause it’s a hand.”

“Do you think she looks older than me? Nevermind. I might as well just ask you if I look fat.”

“Does it smell like a fart? Could be the meatloaf.”

“You know, there’s just not enough cowbell in modern popular music.”

“You’re invading my earspace.”

“Peanut, that’s not your ball. It’s mine. I paid for it.”

“Albert’s not old enough to listen to Judas Priest yet. He needs to be at least 5.”

I love you BIYM. Happy Anniversary.