Dads – Duct Tape & History: A Father’s Day Tale

Growing up in a joint family in India, I was convinced that my dad was secretly trained by the secret services (or NASA for my American friends) — not that he worked there, but because he could fix anything with duct tape and a screwdriver. Once, our microwave door broke. My mom panicked, my siblings debated ordering Cholla Bathura (again for my American friends…something like a pizza), but my dad? He calmly walked in with duct tape, muttered something about “structural integrity,” and five minutes later, the microwave door worked — if you didn’t breathe near it too hard.

For us, every day was Father’s Day and since it was a routine day, no one paid much emphasis to it. However, when we realized there was a day designated as Father’s Day – it became a special day in our house. Mostly because it was the one day we’d try not to ask him to fix anything. We’d wake him up with breakfast in bed (toast that may or may not have been slightly burnt), a handmade card with glue still wet, and proudly present him with the annual “World’s Best Dad” mug and T-Shirt — which by now has become a collection large enough to open a small “Mug & T-Shirt” museum.

But here’s where it gets funnier. One year, in my brilliant 9-year-old mind, I thought I’d recreate the invention of Father’s Day and surprise him. So, I dressed up in a top hat (made from black construction paper), stood on a stool, and announced, “In the spirit of Sonora Smart Dodd, who created Father’s Day in 1910, I hereby declare Dad the Supreme Ruler of the Living Room for one whole day!”

We would make him sit on the recliner like a king, a TV remote like a royal scepter, and every time someone asked for something, he’d respond with, “As Supreme Ruler, I delegate this task… to someone else.” We ended up doing all the chores while he gave live commentary like a sports announcer. “Ah yes, look at that sock-folding technique! Impeccable!”

These days, we keep things simple. No official titles, no throne declarations — just grilled food, awkward dad jokes, and the annual retelling of the time he ruled the living room like a monarch with a remote control and zero accountability. He still claims it was the best Father’s Day ever. We still have PTSD from folding laundry under royal decree.

So this Father’s Day, let’s raise our duct-taped mugs, toolboxes, and half-functioning gadgets to the dads. The fixers of broken things (and sometimes feelings), the masters of “I’ll look at it tomorrow” (which somehow means next week), the champions of dad jokes, and the walking encyclopedias of random car trivia.

Here’s to the men who taught us how to ride a bike, change a tire, grill a questionable steak, and — most importantly — laugh at ourselves. Thanks for being our everyday heroes, our problem-solvers, and occasionally… our Supreme Rulers of the Living Room.

Happy Father’s Day — long may your naps be undisturbed, your socks remain unmatched, and your remote control never goes missing.