The Man My Kids Think I Can Be

My kids think I can bend our coffee table

Without breaking it

They think I can take solids

And make them rubber

Or make them disappear

When something bad happens

Dad can hold it up

And make two fists

Then knock them against his forehead

Sometimes knocking himself to the ground

While the kids laugh

And when I open those fists

The bad stuff is gone

At least...

They think it is

But let's not get too serious

My kids don't think I'm serious

They look at kids with serious Dads

Then they look at me

And grab my hand

And I can see them thinking to themselves--

I'm glad my Dad's not like that

But the problem is that

Sometimes I feel like I suck

At being a Dad

I'm great at being a buddy

And a joker

And a coffee table bender

But when that bad stuff disappears

I just put it behind my ears

And sometimes it falls down

And lands in me

Where it turns into worse stuff

Than little kids' fears

Sometimes it falls too hard on me

And I have to go drive

Drive anywhere

For a long time

Until I find a place I can leave it

So I don't bring it back home with me

My Dad never did that

He let all that hard stuff

Fall on me

And I said 'okay'

Because it was better than watching it

Fall on my mom or my sisters

I remember saying 'Never' more than any other word

And when I had kids I said it even more

Never, never, never

Would I have that

In my house

Fear, anger, violence

I thought I could keep it out

But I can

But when I put my kids to sleep

I can see that look on their face

I know I never had on mine

That look that says--

We're safe

We're safe here

My kids think I can keep them safe

And in line with my words

Instead of my fists

And laughing

And learning

And loved

They think I'm Superman, you know?

Sometimes I see them looking behind me

Watching the red cape

Wave in the wind

And when that bad stuff hits me

When it lands on me

And I wonder what to do with it

If I have it in me

To drive away again

To go further and further

To make sure

That I can drop it off somewhere

Where it won't find its way back

And when it does

I wonder if I should just let it stay

I wonder when my dad made that decision

I wonder when he decided

That it was just easier

To let it stay

When I feel that

When I feel that urge

To throw my hands up

And my keys in the bowl

By the door

And sit on my couch

And open a beer

And say 'To hell with it'

It's too hard

It's too damn hard

And it's heavier now

It's heavier than it ever was

I remind myself

I remind myself about the man

My kids think I can be

Daddy can fly and stop bullets

And be all the stuff

It's too hard to be

And deal with it

So that they never have to have

This stuff fall on them

There are days when I can't be that guy

When I'm no good at being Superman

When I'm no good at being strong

When I'm no good at being Dad

But I fight back

I remember

That I'm always telling them

They can be anything they want to be

So can't I be the man

They think I can be?

Yeah, I can

I can be

And I make sure they watch me

While I teach them

How to make the bad stuff

Disappear

It's all about
Looking at it
And saying--

I'm better

I'm better than the bad stuff
That might fall on me

I teach them to say--

I can be anything
The people who love me
Think I can be