Life is full of choices and turning points, some are big some are small, some are temporary some are permanent. Standing in the bathroom the other morning getting ready for the day I was faced with a choice that was a turning point in my life.

This wasn’t a turning point that you plan for like senior citizen discounts or high school graduation. No, this one I didn’t see coming at all. It was going to be a hot sunny day and I was going to be outside for the majority of it so I had some choices to make. Shorts or pants, shoes or sandals, t-shirt or tank top, sunscreen or hair gel….Sunscreen or hair gel!

The choice between sunscreen and hair care products is one that I didn’t see coming, but here it was rearing its scantily clad head. A turning point. Which one do I NEED was the question at hand or head I guess you could say? Do I continue to support the troops or do I give in and protect the invading scalp?

When I dropped the kids off at school that morning, and gave them their usual hug and bidding of “have fun and learn something,” Jackson asked what that smell was in my hair. “Coppertone” I replied, with a tinge of defeat in my voice. Jackson said, “I like it, it smells like we’re going to the pool.”

His response made me smile. Now if he were older and had fully developed his genetic predisposition to sarcasm he may have responded a little differently. Something like, “Why because your ears and nose are stealing all the hair from your head?” or some other ego bruising, but humorous, response.

Kids are great when they’re at the ages where nothing their father does or is embarrasses them or seems odd in any way. The rabbit fur hat you wear in winter is still entertaining, they still accept hugs and kisses in front of their friends, and your head slathered in Coppertone reminds them of the pool. I better enjoy all this before they discover that I might be a bit strange.

Actually I anticipate that it’ll be just as enjoyable when I am a complete embarrassment to them. I believe that is our right as parents in exchange for changing diapers and putting up with these little people as they try and figure out who they are. Seems fair to me.

You can go ahead and be one of those “cool” parents if you like, but I want to cause my kids to wince a little from time to time. Not from physical pain, but good old fashioned mental anguish. The anguish only a weird father can bring about when you are surrounded by your “cool” friends with the “cool” parents.

They can look away all they want but when they turn back I’ll still be there. Honking, waving, singing loudly to that “weird” music, and leaving a scent of Coppertone in my wake.

Enjoy your summer. Smells like we’re going to the pool.