Attribution: Photo by Steve DiMatteo on Unsplash
By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, passes on a few Father’s Day words to the keeper and all human fathers: “You know how you qualified for the “father” title with all of its perks and pleasures, and how you were not really tallying such things up at that precise moment.
Well, evolution has grabbed you by the–oh never mind, and offered you a deal you cannot refuse. In exchange for not being burdened with the womb and awkward gestation, attached nutrient-supplying breasts and squawling infants, you get the biological “father” assignment of bringing a carcass back to the fire to feed Mom and the kids. This, of course, means that you get to go hunting and fishing in your fatherly role as that is what is biologically ordained.
Should there ever be some kind of miraculous propagation reshuffle and fathers end up with the womb, many of them have been in obvious rehearsal with bulging beer bellies.
That could be an indication that most fathers think beyond the big “fathering” moment and plan for the long, wonderful years of bringing meat and fish back to the cave.
Or maybe not.
Happy Father’s Day!
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