Several years ago, when I was working at a job that was not particularly fulfilling for a boss who was excruciatingly horrible at managing people, we had an office “retreat.” It was clear from the first minute that her boss required her to have the outing and therefore she was going to make us all miserable. The goal of the eight-hour-long torture chamber was to come up with a mission statement for the office.

Look out Steven Covey.

There were some “ice-breakers” that were designed to be interesting and fun (I will leave it up to your imagination what I thought about those). One of them involved a series of questions that were to provide insight into the different personalities in the room. They ranged from “What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?” to “What actor would play you in a movie?”

It really allowed us to peer into our souls. Or something like that.

There was one question, though, that I instantly knew how I would answer and why. The question was “What is your favorite picture of you?” Most people recalled a photo taken when they were young, when they looked particularly adorable.

Ahem.

Personally, I do not like having my picture taken at all. I am not exactly sure why, but I am not about to spend a small fortune to pay a therapist to help me understand. But there are two pictures that I really love. They are the first pictures taken right after my both of my sons were born. 

That is a considerably younger (and thinner) me holding Nathan in March, 2003.

And that is a slightly older and a bit rounder me holding Sebastian (with Nathan peeking behind) in August, 2008.

There are few things that I have been certain of in my life, but I always knew that I wanted to be a father. I will likely never be selected as father of the year (I am pretty sure the president has that wrapped up), but I do know that these two not-so-little-anymore knuckleheads have brought me far greater joy than I ever could have imagined.

As I write this, my two boys are likely still sleeping, one upstairs, the other a half a country away in Ohio, so I will need to wait a spell before eating my absolute favorite breakfast of runny eggs and slightly burnt toast and I can hardly wait.

Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there. I am sure that you feel as lucky and as blessed as I do.