“A careful man I want to be…
A little fellow follows me.
I do not dare to go astray,
For fear he’ll go the self-same way.
I cannot once escape his eyes.
Whatever he sees me do he tries.
Like me he says he’s going to be…
That little chap who follows me.”
—Author Unknown (to me)

Let me go ahead and rip the Band-Aid off: I am not a perfect dad. But here’s the thing—there is no such thing as a perfect dad. They don’t exist. Like unicorns, a “perfect dad” is a fantasy creature. No matter what you see on social media, perfection isn’t real. It’s a goal we’ll never reach.

I used to get discouraged when I saw posts of what looked like perfect dads living perfect lives. I compared myself to them… which, spoiler alert, is not healthy.

Eventually, I realized something important:

I was comparing my real life to their highlight reel.

That realization freed me. It made me okay with not being perfect—as long as I’m striving every day to improve and to show my two boys that it’s okay to be imperfect too.

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Story Time…

About a year ago, I was at my in-laws’ house helping my father-in-law move some furniture out of the basement and into my truck. Owen really wanted to “help”—and by help, I mean supervise—so he came outside with us.

At one point, I dropped a heavy piece of furniture on my foot. I wish I could say that the next words out of my mouth were “shucks,” “fiddle sticks,” or “praise the Lord.”

But no. I said it.
“Shit!”

I immediately looked down at Owen, hoping—praying—he didn’t hear what I very clearly said out loud.

He heard it.
And he repeated it.
“Shit!”

This kid ignores me when I ask him to clean his room or get ready for bed… but the second I say something I shouldn’t be saying, he’s all ears.

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Fast forward to last night…

We went to a Christmas Family Night at a science center here in Winston-Salem. The kids met Santa and did all sorts of kid-science activities. On the way home, we stopped at Chick-fil-A for dinner.

While we were eating, a woman came into the dining area asking if anyone had jumper cables—her car battery was dead. I told her I had some in my truck and that I’d meet her outside. I went out, met her and her son, and got her car started.

As we were finishing up, Leanna and the boys came outside. They asked what I was doing, and I explained that I was helping someone who needed assistance.

They asked why.

Leanna and I both told them that helping someone in need is always the right thing to do.

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Kids are always watching.
They see the good and the bad.
They see that we’re not perfect.
And they see that we’re trying.

And honestly, that’s what matters most.

-Matt Webb