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I don't know if they give out a father-of-the-year award around here, but, seriously, I want one.
And I want all four of my kids on stage to present it to me.
Along with it, I want money, too. Maybe from their savings accounts, which I do have access to, but I will need the blessings of my wife to get any of it.
Let's start with $10 from each of them. That would make me happy, because they push me to the brink on so many occasions, but never enough to go over the ledge.
I'm constantly checking out the view -- way more than I want to be. In fact, there are times where I would rather watch ABC's "The View," and I'm a Republican.
Here's example No. 1:
— One of my twin boys, Vincent, recently had a dentist appointment so I picked him up at school to take him. On our way, he broke out a giant candy bar and took a big chomp out of it, which almost caused me to crash the car.
“What are you doing?" I screamed. "You'll be at the dentist in less than 10 minutes. That thing is filled with nuts, pretzels and chocolate. They're going to need a fillet knife to get all that gunk out of your teeth."
Did I mention he also wears braces?
But I did scare him enough that he stopped eating at that moment, and when he got to the dentist, he brushed and gargled a lot longer than he has in his 15 years of life on Earth.
He also got a clean bill of health, which made me super angry. When I go to the dentist, I do a liquid diet 12 hours before my appointment, and I still get cut. It's not fair.
Eating candy on your way to the dentist as a teenager is the equivalent of me eating tacos on my way to a colonoscopy.
Example No. 2:
— Because I work a night shift, I go back to bed after my sons and wife leave for school.
One morning, my daughter Maggie was up and getting ready for work. However, she could not find the lunch she packed the night before.
So what did she do? She woke me up to see if I knew who took it because, like any father, I am usually the one that orchestrates such covert kitchen operations around our breakfast nook.
"Who took my lunch? Did Mom take it? Did one of the boys take it?" were just a few of the questions I could hear as I was still processing what it meant to be awake -- again.
I thought she was going to start waterboarding me until she got the right answer.
Of course, turns out, Vincent took it -- on the day I was taking him out to lunch after the dentist. We talked about it in the morning, but he says he was on his phone and wasn't thinking straight when he took said lunch from said refrigerator.
Again, it's probably my fault.
Anyway, Maggie huffed and puffed her way off to work, throwing together a lunch at the last minute. Of course, she called an hour later, waking me up for the third time that morning, and asking me if I can drive into Altoona and bring her a drink because she forgot to pack one.
And I did.
Why? Because I am as nutty as the candy bar that my son tried to gnaw on like a bear coming out of hibernation.
I think I'll start working on my acceptance speech for my special award, but not before I go back to sleep.
You see, I still have two other kids, Julianna and Dominic, who want their shot at Dad.
Scott Franco writes a monthly column for the Mirror.