Recently I spent a Sunday afternoon replacing the insides of one of the toilets in the house.  It was finally time because I couldn’t tighten things anymore to stop it from leaking, as the hard water had taken its toll on the seals. So I set about my business.

As is sometimes the case, it never goes exactly as planned.  The instructions were so-so, obviously written by someone who doesn’t understand English fluently, therefore some of the steps just didn’t make sense.  So I had to use all my brain power to decipher what I was really supposed to do to make this thing work.  Having a Master’s degree didn’t seem to be making a difference, so I had to rely on my good-ole dad common sense that we are all blessed with, right?  Nothing a little duck tape and wire ties can’t fix when you know what you’re doing.

I finally got the whole thing back together and was eager for the wife to come flush so I could beam with pride, but she didn’t seem too interested.  So I stood there looking at the toilet, flushing it a few times just because I could.  And I started thinking…

One of these days my sons are going to call me up and need my advice about things such as this.  Just like I have relied on my dad for years for advice. If I can’t figure it out, then my go-to guy is dad. How to replace shingles? Call dad. Why won’t my mower start? Call dad. And one of these days, I am going to be the go-to guy.  And I am not totally sure I’m ready.

Everything that my kids ask me to help with now, I got no problems with. I can handle it, as long as it doesn’t involve solving linear algebra theorems. But I am the dad, and I am supposed to have the answers. What if I don’t have the answers? Believe it or not, that worries me.  I guess I’ll face that when the time comes.  For now, I’ll be spending a little more time watching HG-TV.  Oh, and I think I’ll flush that toilet a few more times.