Brazilian Father's Day

Brazilians know how to celebrate holidays. All the pomp and circumstance comes wrapped in revelry and layered with homages to all things sacred, particularly when it comes to families. So when Brazilian Father's Day rolled around, I had already spent several days mentally prepping Mark with his fatherly duties for the kid's school's Saturday morning presentations. He arrived early with Margo and walked into a gymnasium slathered in manly decorations of soccer balls, kites, and primary colors. Music blared through the speakers in between unintelligible speeches and directions for the kids and fathers to follow as they filed into their assigned spots. First task was to complete an art project together. The second task involved hundreds of men hoisting their children over their heads in a version of Simon Says: carry them like a baby, carry them like an airplane,  carry them on your back while your shirt clings to you and sweat runs into your shoes. Lastly, smile for the hundreds of moms holding their iPhones giddy to catch the memory forever. 

Thirty minutes later Mark got to do it all over again when I arrived with Deets. Several hundred more men filed in with their children to do some art and dance like monkeys. Only this time the kids and dads were assigned group work: build something out of trash. In general it was a great process for creativity if not for two dads who took over like Sith Lords who singlehandedly built a trash robot. No one seemed inclined to add Deets' contribution: an empty plastic bottle wrapped in tissue paper and glue. But he didn't care, he was stoked to have his dad right by his side amongst the throngs of warm bodies. Once the two dads built the robot, they unsuccessfully tried to name the robot Dilma as a sour humored jab to insult the country's president.  Not needing to be part of political mirth, Mark succeeded in naming robot something innocuous. Each class then paraded around the sweltering gym, forced to smile and pose for the cameras before I finally managed to make eye contact with him and sneak out with two exultant and proud children. 

Being a good sport. 

As for the American Father Day version, we spent the actual Father's Day celebrating all things sacred to Mark: eating homemade toast, watching soccer on TV and... happy hour at the gas station. Just the way he likes it.