Remember When Dad Saved the Day? I Do

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section June 12, 2010


With Father's Day a week away, we all think of our dads and the memories we hold of them. As we age, negative memories tend to fade somewhat, leaving mostly happier ones to ruminate over.

Some people have memories of their fathers they wish they could forget. For others, their dads can do no wrong. Either way, the stories that have been told about the family patriarchs in our lives could fill volumes.

My father owned a bakery in Columbus, Ohio, in the early '80s, where I worked when I was home from college. One Saturday after the cake decorator had gone home, my dad discovered a cake order for that evening that had not been filled.

"Jennifer, go decorate a white cake in the shape of a truck, red icing, black wheels, and write on it, 'Happy Birthday, Timmy,'" he said.

Now I had become rather crafty at writing the names on the cakes, but decorating a special shape for a party was intimidating, to say the least.

My dad was pretty good at decorating cakes, even making the roses, but he was too busy to do this one. I have to admit I was excited to try my hand at sculpting a red Peterbilt out of a vanilla half-sheet cake.

I remember taking too long on my slightly slanted, Picasso-esque masterpiece. The party was starting, and we promised to deliver the cake. I finished up with the fluted piping around the edge and away we went.

I stayed in the car as my dad walked the cake up to the front door. Timmy's mom opened the door with a smile, appreciating the special delivery. I watched as my dad opened the box for her inspection, but instead of approval, her face sank in disappointment. She shook her head in rejection at my masterpiece.

With cake in hand, my father turned and walked back to our car.

"What happened?" I asked.

"She doesn't like it," he said. "I have to go make another one."

My heart sank with failure as we drove back to the bakery, where my dad whipped up a perfect red Mack truck cake with yellow wheels.

We drove back to deliver the second cake, and this time when Timmy's mother opened the door and lifted the lid on the cake box, her face lit up with excitement. It was perfect.

My dad got back in the car and we looked at each other and he gave me a simple, "Glad that's over." Traumatic and embarrassing at the time, but funny and endearing now.

So, for all the young dads and dads-to-be out there, remember this: It isn't the paid memberships to the country clubs. It isn't the summer camp away from home to teach independence and maturity. What's important to your kids is making good memories together — memories they can keep deep in their hearts their whole lives.

Send me your stories about your dads or granddads. I'd love to share more fun on Father's Day weekend in my column for next week.

Quote of the Week: "Nothing I've ever done has given me more joys and rewards than being a father to my children." — Bill Cosby