Trinidad, and the Big Mississippi

I remember something a fellow young man told me about 20 years ago.  We were in a tent with a couple other young men on a scouting campout.  My father was one of the leaders at the time.  He was fun and dorky. He would participate during games of capture the flag, and he would teach weird geography songs to those who were willing to learn them.  I don't remember the whole of the conversation that led up to this comment. I think it was something along the lines of one boy saying, "You're dad's goofy."

I, thinking to deflect some ridicule, said something like, "I know. He can be pretty dorky sometimes."

Then the other boy said, "I wish he was my dad."

I had never seen either of these other boys' fathers at any campout or any other scouting event.  Their fathers never played basketball, they didn't sit by their sons at church, and they certainly didn't sing goofy geography songs around the campfire.

Thank you for being a dad, Dad.