Dating and the Father's Day Big Leagues

I feel like I have spent every Father’s Day in the Rookie Leagues until now.

I have always been iffy about Father’s Day, but I will truly feel deserving of celebration this Father’s Day, because now I have entered into the Big Leagues of Fatherhood.

In a two-week period of time, my oldest daughter got engaged, and two of her younger siblings passed Significant Milestones with persons of the opposite sex.

Let me start with the youngest first.

I will not reveal this young person’s name or sex, but will reveal that this young person developed a relationship with a person of the opposite sex, and requested a trip to a professional soccer game. I granted the request—and went with them.

I was only vaguely aware that professional soccer existed before attending the game. But we had a nice time. We chatted. I tried to be the cool dad, the normal dad, the dad who says funny things. It wasn’t until we headed home that I became the Dad From Hell—or, more to the point, the Holy-Roller-Hound-of-Heaven Dad.

It began when we were waiting for traffic to clear to allow us to leave the parking lot. This takes a long time even at professional soccer games.

The first mortifying thing I did was say: “Looks like we’ll be here for a while. Let’s pray our Rosary!” Which we did. The second mortifying thing I did was about 35 minutes later.

After small talk on the way through Kansas City, I said, “I know what we can talk about. Let’s talk about my views on exclusive dating in high school.”

My own offspring balked, and aggressively tried to change the subject, but I won.

“I just think dating one person exclusively in high school is a bad idea. For three reasons,” I said.

“First, because high school years are all about preparation for college,” I said. I repeated the examples I have shared in the past: My sister’s high school debating career catapulted her to college success—and lifelong success thereafter. My own incessant high-school writing made me, for better or worse, a writer. I had other examples, too. “That’s what high school is for,” I said, “and that’s what the time and drama spent in an exclusive high school relationships makes impossible.”

Second, I said, an exclusive high school relationship violates the Our Father clause, “Lead us not into temptation.” I dwelled on this a little, citing a recent case of a teen pregnancy we knew of, just to make it extra awkward.

Third, I said, boy-girl relationships are meant to prepare for marriage. But high schoolers in 21st century America are usually in no position to choose a lifelong partner. Which means that exclusive high school relationships, after distracting us from our studies and leading us into temptation leave us … nowhere. Usually, the two high school partners choose different paths: Different colleges, different futures, different lives. The relationship stumbles and whimpers to an end, leaving them sad.

“I believe high schoolers should definitely go out—in groups and for special events, and with a number of different people, to get to know how to interact with members of the opposite sex. But why devote yourself to one person, spending time and energy walking across a minefield of sexual frustration, just to get to a sad crossroads and say goodbye?”

The rest of the ride home was very quiet.

And that brings us to the crowning achievement of my fatherhood, the engaged Eldest Daughter.

Her case brought me to all kinds of Fatherhood Firsts. There was the conversation with the Significant Other about whether it was wise to marry. I said it wasn’t–until he had a Life Plan. Days and hours of life planning later, there was the Big Ask–the Dad Ask. His was accompanied by a PowerPoint presentation detailing his Life Plan. Next will come walking her down the aisle, paying out piles of money to the Wedding Industry, and then smiling and waving goodbye.

And that’s why it is the Big Leagues of Fatherhood—because that is Fatherhood’s ultimate goal.

Fathers need to be friends with their kids, and disciplinarians for their kids, and life coaches for their kids—but none of these is fatherhood’s ultimate goal.

All of those activities of fatherhood are directed toward this final end: The moment when you smile and wave goodbye.

Whether they followed your advice or not, if you did all you could to prepare for that moment, then you can celebrate with pride. You have fully earned your Father’s Day.