Feminists say fathers are as useless as Hillary Clinton's conscience.

Experts say too many fathers are like cops: authority figures who are never there when you need one.

Freud said fathers are the second leading cause of neurotics, right behind mothers.

Isn't it about time we heard what fatherhood really means from a real, average father? I'm real average. I have a wife and 2.2 children (daughter, son and neutered dog). So here it is.

The meaning of fatherhood is: I don't have a clue.

Most of the dads I know don't have a clue, either. We just fake it.

Here's how the dad job works. The boy wants to go see Matrix Reloaded. I am pretty sure it has something to do with the cargo capacity of that new Mazda, but I'm not sure enough.

So when he asks, dad's job is to look both ways like a guy crossing a freeway on roller skates, then when the coast is clear, mumble, "What did your mother say?''

The first thing a dad needs to know is that moms know more.

Mom's complement

Moms always know when the kids should wear jackets (when the temperature might be over or under 50 degrees or any day that ends in "y''). Dads are more likely to dress the kids in plaids and stripes, shorts and sandals in January, wool turtlenecks in July.

Dads can operate a reciprocating three-way power saw with all the accessories and rebuild a carburetor on a 1958 Cadillac - but we can't operate a washing machine or reload a dishwasher.

We know five different places to park downtown, but we get lost like Livingston in the Congo valley trying to find the personal hygiene aisle at Kroger.

We're not useless

We can gut and clean a fish, but we can't even think about cleaning a bathroom without getting a bit woozy.

Our wives say we never talk to them, and our kids are glad we don't because we might find out Matrix Reloaded is not a car movie, it's a vehicle for sex, violence and bubblegum philosophy.

But dads are not useless. We have priceless treasures of wisdom to pass along. Such as:

• Righty tighty, lefty loosey.

• Never tell a lie - unless you answer the phone and I tell you I'm not here.

• When all else fails, read the instructions.

• When someone says "Trust me,'' don't.

• Never tie your dog's leash to your bicycle handlebars if you live in a neighborhood with lots of cats.

• And the secret of fatherhood is simple. To be a good dad, here's what you have to be: There.

Be there for beginning band concerts that sound like a train wreck in a trombone factory.

Be there for excruciating soccer games that look like 40 little kids trying to kick the snot out of a slippery snake in the grass.

Be there for all the important moments in life and lots of unimportant moments.

Be there when they need you and even when they don't.

Any questions?

Go ask your mother.

---

E-mail pbronson@enquirer.com or call 768-8301.