How to be a great Dad

Father's Day is rapidly approaching and that has got me thinking. First, should I get my Dad a card commemorating what a great job I think he has done over the years or the doll with the beer belly that burps when you squeeze its head? \nSecond, I've come to the realization that I'm biologically (though fortunately not socially) capable of bringing a child of my own into this world.\nLuckily, before that can happen, I need to work up the nerve to ask someone on a date, then get to know said person, then ask her to be my girlfriend, then get to know her some more, then ask her to be my wife, then sit around and wait a couple of years while "we" try to figure out if the wedding cake should have five or six layers, then get married, then get a secure job, then buy a plant and see if I can keep it alive for a year because anybody who kills an organism that only needs sunlight and water to survive should not be allowed within 20 feet of individuals who believe that food is best consumed by osmosis through the face -- and maybe then I'll be ready to have a child which should put me at the ripe age of 337.\nStill, the fact that I could have a child if only sperm had the ability to jump out of men's belly buttons and impregnate women casually passing by frightens me terribly and forces me to wonder if there has ever been a science fiction novel written on super sperm. If there has been a book written on this topic, I hereby decree that God should destroy the world tomorrow.\nSeriously, I'm looking forward to fatherhood. Who doesn't want a chance to create a miniature version of themselves? I can happily imagine a son at my age.\nSon: Dad, I kissed a chimpanzee today!\nMe: Way to go, Son!\nBut, there is always the off chance that something could go terribly wrong in my wife's womb, and I'm prepared to face the horrible fact that the creature coming out of the woman I've chosen to spend my life with could very well be a hairy ape-man ... or a daughter. \nMy daughter will hate me. Mainly because after hanging out with guys for 20 years, there is not a chance in Hades that I am going to let my daughter within 100 yards of any member of the male species until she is ... you guessed it ... 337 years old. Then I might allow her to shake hands with one. \nMight.\nBeing a father is a special privilege and a huge responsibility. You have to make sure your children don't develop any bad habits like nose-picking or watching "The O'Reilly Factor." You have to teach your children the difference between right and wrong and ice cream and yogurt. You have to ensure your children never figure out that cooties don't really exist. It's a lot of responsibility.\nFortunately, I've had a great father to pattern myself after, and I'm not too worried about it. Plus, I can always blame anything they do wrong on their mother who will undoubtedly wonder every day why she married someone who thinks chimpanzee-kissing is an integral part of child development. Which it is.