I have no pretentions about my abilities as a father. Neither do my sons. When asked what animal would most accurately describe me one of my sons said without reservations or hesitation, “A bulldog.”

Think about that one for a moment – a bulldog. The characteristics of a bulldog are quite unimpressive: bowlegged, slobbering, lazy with a big mouth. I’m also expensive, my health is suspect and my mortality rate is woefully low. Okay, so I guess he’s not too far off the mark. My saving grace is that I’m fiercely loyal and I am very protective – if I were a real bulldog that is.

I’m not going to win any Father of the Year awards and I’m not even sure that I would be considered a good father by any Child & Family Services standards thanks to the number of times I’ve forgotten birthdays, forgotten diaper bags when they were younger, lost them in a department store or at the supermarket. If feeding your kids macaroni-and-cheese or ramen noodles five out of the seven days of the week is a felony than I should be serving a lifetime sentence somewhere and if walking out of the house without properly bundling your kids up in the dead of winter is an Olympic sport I would have been a serial gold medalist.

But there is one thing that I’ve never been accused of and that’s holding back the love that I feel for each one of my boys. I have poked and prodded them and I’ve even been harsh with them at times but I would truly give up my life if it meant that it would save one or all of my sons.

I found this video this morning and it accurately depicts what I feel a father must do for his child(ren). The closing statement truly defines what a father’s love is and should be.

Am I wrong?