NBC launched a new reality show, “My Dad Is Better Than Your Dad,” this past Monday evening. Children between the ages of 8 and 12 compete with their dads against other father/child teams. The competitions include Human Dart Board, The Spinning Discs, Snake Bobbing, Alphabet Soup, Happy Hour, Uphill Battle, Empty Nest, Target Practice, Quiz Round, Scorpion King, Paper Boy Shoot-Out, Arachnophobia, and Stinger. Ultimately the final team competes in the “Money” round for up to $50,000. The show is being marketed as family-friendly.
Family friendly? While the show may not have sexual content or inappropriate language, I question whether it is the family show I want my children to see. I’m not sure I want my children to think that a father should, or even can, be evaluated based on the shows criteria. I believe that a father should be evaluated based on the impact his has on teaching his children to make decisions that will lead them to heaven. I believe a father should be evaluated on how he parents his children throughout their lives.
This last week, I had a birthday. It has been a long standing tradition for my mother to call me on my birthday and sing “Happy Birthday.” She has done that since I went to college more than twenty years ago. That is, she had sung to me on every one of my birthdays, until two years ago. Two years ago, my mom called and told me happy birthday, but she didn’t sing to me. Last year, my mom called and told me happy birthday, but she didn’t sing to me.
My mom has had some health challenges and I had accepted that I realized I probably would never hear her sing “Happy Birthday” again. I didn’t mention it to her because I didn’t want her to feel bad about forgetting to sing to me.
This year, my mom didn’t call on my birthday. My dad called. His deep voice told me he had called to tell me happy birthday. I heard my mom talking to him and he said my mom was getting on the other extension. Mom picked up the phone and said, “I just wanted to sing happy birthday to you.” Then I heard my mom and dad singing “Happy Birthday” together. My dad never joined my mother in singing before. For the first time in more than twenty years I heard my dad’s voice singing on my birthday.
I don’t know if mom remembered she was supposed to sing to me this year or if my dad reminded her. I do know that my dad dialed my number, got my mom on the phone, and joined her in singing. For that moment, I know my dad was better than your dad.


