Finding inspirational stories of the perfect dad simply requires that you open your eyes and see how great your dad is. These stories may give you the perfect idea for this Father's Day.
Father always carried a bag of nickels around with him. Whenever you'd do something he approved of, he'd pull one out of the bag and pop it in your mouth with this look of extreme satisfaction on his face. When you did something he disapproved of, he'd "get five cents' worth out of you" unless the two events happened so close together that you could just spit the coin back into his bag.
Dad would get drunk on something called "slush" (basically a mix of fortified wine and cough syrup) and spend the whole afternoon laying out the in sun, thinking of ways to save the world. I remember the day he figured out that heavier vehicles got worse fuel economy than lighter vehicles. He wouldn't stop smiling as he rode his lawnmower to Costco.
It wasn't even a rideable mower, either. He just straddled the top of an ordinary Honda gas-powered mower, reached back, and held the throttle down. The thing got up to 11 MPH so the Costco staff had a hard time catching him. He kept fake-surrendering and then jumping back onto it when they tried to subdue him.
"Never give up," he'd always say, "Life will always try to tell you, 'No. Never.' But never deal in absolutes."
My dad also had a full-scale replica of C3PO in the den that he would shout insults at when he had a bad day at work. He'd just walk through the door, head straight to the den, and a moment later you'd hear him calling the robot racial slurs and sometimes you could even hear a glass break or something get thrown into the wall. I don't know what that robot did to deserve that abuse, but a lot of horrible things ended up happening to it.
When I was younger, dad asked me if I wanted to go camping. Of course I wanted to go camping. He led me out to the backyard where he had set up an 8-person tent and said, "We should be able to see some stars tonight." It was like Christmas in the middle of July.
That night, dad pointed out all of the constellations: The "Patriot" (a soldier kneeling and aiming a rifle); the "Measuring Cups", (pretty obvious), and some that were even inspired by Lord of the Rings. There is so much history buried in that night sky. The following morning, he asked if I wanted to continue camping. Of course I wanted to continue camping.
For some reason, this caused my mom to get really upset. The two got into an argument and dad said something about how he wasn't even living in the house. Mom kept shouting, "This doesn't count! This doesn't count!"
Years later, my dad rode a horse bareback through the forests of northern Oregon and lived off of the land with nothing more than a single shot .22 caliber rifle and a week's worth of military rations. After four or five days, he returned with wild-eyes stories of how people should try harder to "live off the grid", and got really upset when we asked how we would get electricity in the middle of nowhere. He'd grow flustered and shout "those people living caves have the right idea!" over and over again.
My dad auditioned for the role of John Proctor in a local version of "The Crucible" because he heard that the character got to have sex with several of the actors and figured that he could circumvent being faithful to his wife if it "was only acting". Then he got the part and would just shout all of his lines at the top of his lungs like he was deaf or something and all the other actors were like, "What the fuck is up with this guy?" Under their breaths, of course, because my dad was really unstable, especially under pressure.
He cut a hole in the crotch of his big baggy pilgrim pants so he could have sex with the actors but I guess that scene doesn't actually exist so he just spent like 3 hours screaming in a fake British accent while his dick flopped around like a gopher.
A man goes to the big box store with a list of items to purchase: Razors, two pounds of cheese, and a couple of pairs of $11 jeans. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches an employee handing out samples. He tastes the sample and--wowie--that's some good sample, he thinks.
"I'd like to buy one," the man says to the employee. The employee throws his hands up and sprints to retrieve the product: A brand new dad. Chestnut-colored hair, a encyclopedic knowledge of Chris-Craft boats, 10 fingers and toes, et cetera.
"My wife is gonna kill me," the customer laughs as the employee yessirs and seats the dad on a palette. Then the employee full-force slaps the dad across the mouth and points a finger in the dad's face.
"You listen to me, you little shit. I will fucking kill you if you show up as a return. You hear me? This is an honest business and we don't have time for this," he hisses at the dad, barely above a whisper. The two lock eye contact for a long time. "Better watch out for this one," the employee says to the customer. "He's nothing but trouble."