Oggi sul sito di ITALIC un mio pezzo sulla Festa del Papà.
C’è una cosa che non ho scritto nell’articolo, ma che avrei voluto comunque dire. Quindi lo faccio qui.
Ho pensato fin da bambino che fare il papà sarebbe stato molto bello. E fin da subito ho anche avuto la convinzione che sarei stato bravo, parecchio.
Così invece non è. Fare il papà è anche molto stressante e a volte mi ha messo davanti a pensieri incredibili, che non pensavo di poter concepire. E spesso poi mi sono vergognato di me stesso.
Non sono neanche il migliore dei papà, ma questo credo, perché un papà migliore di altri non possa esistere. Insomma non è una gara. Cresciuto nell’era dei video games pensavo lo fosse. E mi sono sbagliato.
Per anni ho aspettato un momento della mia vita (narcotizzandone buona parte nell’attesa) e quando è arrivato non c’avevo capito niente. Per anni! Ditemi voi se questa non è la signora delle tranvate.
Detto tutto ciò, però, non è finito nulla. Anzi. Ci sono dei momenti, che si alternano ad altri di down, dove avverto una forza ed una capacità rispetto a quello che posso fare con i miei figli, che quasi mi sento addosso il potere di lanciare ragnatele dai polsi e saltare da un palazzo all’altro!
Forse la verità, nel diventare papà, è che si ufficializza il nostro essere borderline. Dove la convivenza con quello che ci piace deve accettare per sempre la presenza di ciò che non ci piace.
Così quando siamo a pezzi per la rabbia e la stanchezza, basta ricordarsi che sappiamo amare, senza vergogna. E se ci riesce ancora di farlo, forse siamo salvi. Forse.
E forse, siamo dei bravi papà.
Auguri!
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So not really on the same topic as your post, but I found this today and I just cant resist sharing. Mrs. Agathe’s dishwasher quit working so she called a repairman. Since she had to go to work the next day, she told him, “I’ll leave the key under the mat. Fix the dishwasher, leave the bill on the counter, and I’ll mail you the check. Oh, and by the waydon’t worry about my Doberman. He won’t bother you. But, whatever you do, do NOT under ANY circumstances talk to my parrot!” When the repairman arrived at Mrs. Agathe’s apartment the next day, he discovered the biggest and meanest looking Doberman he had ever seen. But just as she had said, the dog simply laid there on the carpet, watching the repairman go about his business. However, the whole time the parrot drove him nuts with his incessant cursing, yelling and name-calling. Finally the repairman couldn’t contain himself any longer and yelled, “Shut up, you stupid ugly bird!” To which the parrot replied, “Get him, Spike!”}
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