When the good Lord was creating fathers, He started with a tall frame. A
female angel nearby said, "What kind of father is that? If you're going
to make children so close to the ground, why have you put fathers up so
high? He won't be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child
in bed without bending or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping.
And God smiled and said, "Yes, but if I make him childsize, who would
children have to look up to?"
And when God made a father's hands, they were large and sinewy. The
angel shook her head sadly and said, "Large hands are clumsy. They can't
manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on ponytails or even
remove splinters caused by sticks used as baseball bats."
And God smiled and said, "I know, but they're large enough to hold
everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day, yet
small enough to cup a child's face."
And then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders. The angel
nearly had a heart attack. "Boy, this is the end of the week, all
right," she clucked. "Do you realize you just made a father without a
lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid
falling between his legs?"
And God smiled and said, "A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong
shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle or hold a sleepy
head on the way home from the circus."
God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had
ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. "That's not
fair. Do you honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of
bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small
birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?"
And God smiled and said, "They'll work. You'll see. They'll support a
small child who wants to ride a horse to Banbury Cross or scare off mice
at the summer cabin or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill."
God worked on, giving the father few words but a firm, authoritive voice
and eyes that saw everything but remained calm and tolerant. Finally,
almost as an afterthought, He added tears. Then He turned to the angel
and said, "Now, are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?"
The angel shutteth up ....
This originally appeared in a newspaper column by Erma Bombeck. She was
a well-known humorist and author. She died April 22, 1996 in San
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the
dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair
had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a
holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was
guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and
realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed
up for dinner.”
There would have been more “I love you’s”.. more “I’m sorry’s”... but mostly, given another
shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it