There are a plethora of words in the english language that are used as descriptive words (They're called Adjectives... I know that because my Pop told me, and he never lies.)  These descriptive words, and sometimes phrases, are a great help when we are trying to draw an image in someone's mind of a certain person, place, or thing. I thought, that since Father's Day is upon us, I would try to do Pop and his Grammar policing ways proud, and see how many I could come up with to describe what an ideal Father's adjectives would be. So here goes:

When describing a father, you'd use words like:

Strong

Bold

Leader

Protective

Hardworking

Confident

Adventurous

Considerate

Trustworthy

Patient

Humble

Dependable

And so the list goes on...

Now, those things are all hugely important, and my Pop has all of those things for sure. However -- that list doesn't even touch the things that Pop has that make him a truly great human, father, leader, and friend. Things such as:

He posseses the ability to wear a suit and tie or beach pants with equal confidence and swagger. (He can also sport socks and sandals... and that takes guts my friends.)

He has an EPIC radio voice. (I kid you not... he was known as Quakemaster Barlow, on account of all the earthquakes that would occur when he was on air.)

He as Musical talent, including, but not limited to, the ability to play any instrument he picks up, being able to teach others how to play, he possesses a soulful and soothing singing voice, ability to write songs that range from ballads, to blues, to worship, and an ability to appreciate ALL genre's of music.

He may not enjoy the threat of natural disasters, but he has ALWAYS been the first one to roll up his sleeves to help clean up after a tornado, flood, or earthquake.

He possesses no shame when it comes to laughing and flatulence jokes. No. Shame.

He could write a book about having to turn the other cheek, but in it, he would never mention names, and would still be hoping and praying for the other person's good.

Dude has sported an afro perm AND a mullet in his lifetime - and rocked them both.

He has hidden drawing skills. He can draw pine trees so well, you can almost smell them.

He's the only one that I know that care wear both a duster and cowboy hat, or a Dickens cape and a top hat and look totally legit.

He adopted other people's children and loved them as much as his own blood.

He has a DEEP (I'm talking Pacific Ocean deep --Mariana Trench deep) love for all things Christmas. So much so that it's in all of our DNA.

He went back to school so he could put food on our table and have the qualifications to be a teacher. 

I'm sure when he's done reading this, he could sit down with his red pen and mark the page from top to bottom with all the mistakes I've made in punctuation and grammar (but not spelling... HA! spellcheck has my back on that one... where was THAT in high school!?) -- BUT he won't, because he loves me, and he's the one that taught me that sometimes it's okay to let people make mistakes.

If there were an award for most awkward 'smile for the camera' face, Pop would win, hands down. Which is weird... because he actually has a great smile.

He doesn't try to fix everything -- sometimes he just gives you a hug, and sits there with you in your hurt.

Speaking of hurt -- he may laugh when you walk into a mailbox for like, the 14th time... but only AFTER he makes sure you're okay. 

My Pop is the best.

I know I'm leaving out some vital descriptive terms, but I'm assuming at this point that you all have the idea of what, in my opinion, makes a really great Pop, Dad, Father, or whatever your title of choice is.

It strikes me that many men I know feel like they are failing as fathers... that less than perfect isn't good enough... well guess what? Maybe its the things that make you less than perfect that your kids will remember as their favorite things about you. It's the things that make you human, and it's the things that make you, you. Its probably okay to cut yourself some slack (*cough* Pop) , and accept that you're not perfect. Your kids don't expect you to be. They just love you because you're you.  Go ahead, high five yourself, it's hard work to be a Dad.