An interesting thing happened to me the other day that really got me thinking about life and I'd like to share it and get everybody's opinion on:

Yesterday morning, after dropping Super Michael off at school, Princess K and I were walking back to the car from the school and we passed by a couple of kids on their way to school.  The two girls looked at me long and hard and after we passed by them, I heard the smaller little girl tell her big sister "That's Super Michael's dad!".  I really didn't think much on this considering Super Michael is pretty popular and I get the "It's Super Michael's dad!" all the time, until I got back to my car and had a few minutes to think on this while I was driving Princess K to daycare.

A little personal history is in order here before I get any further into this.  Back in the day, I worked with kids.  I taught kids how to use computers at a local Boys and Girls Club for eight years and I couldn't go ANYWHERE without parents or their kids recognizing me and coming up to me and saying "Hi".  I was really involved in the Club for a long time and I got to know a lot of the kids and their parents in the city.  I saw a lot of the kids grow up, and even saw a few of them that had their own kids.  Kids I had in my classes would come up to me as adults and tell me about their new jobs in the computer field and to thank me for getting them interested in computers and I really felt great about it and that I made a difference in someone's life.  In addition, on occasion while I worked at the club I would have stories about something I was involved in appear in the local newspaper, so my face was fairly recognizable in the area.  As such, I was fairly used to people saying "Hey, that's Super Mega Dude!"  Or, "Hey, that's Mr. Dude." (I was only Super Mega Dude before I had kids).

Eventually, I left the Club and started to work for "the man" in the corporate world (the pay is MUCH nicer, sadly).  Still, I was always out and about doing things including scuba diving, hanging out at the beach, roller blading, all the fun little things in life so I was still fairly well known and always saw people I knew around town.  I stayed late after work to play Quake 2 with my coworkers, hung out with my friends, went to their houses, yada, yada, yada.  People knew who I was, so I was used to people recognizing me.

At some point during all this, I got married and we decided, hey, wouldn't it be a blast if we had kids?  Super Michael was thrust unto the world and all of a sudden things started to change.  I didn't go "hang out" anymore.  My scuba diving time tapered off, my surfing skills got all rusty, the roller blades laid still at last. 

Then, one day we decided, hey, one kid is SO much fun, let's have ONE more.  And along came Princess K.  Now that there was two, even MORE attention was put toward "kid stuff".

Our lives started to become more centered around the kids.  Instead of going to bars and single friends' houses to hang out, we went to the zoo and hung out with married friends with kids the same age as our kids.  Instead of buying the latest stereo equipment and computer parts, we bought Leapfrog stuff and diapers.  Things were different.

So, when I was recognized as Super Michael's dad, instead of as Super Mega Dad himself, it came as a little shock to my ego in one sense, but also as a realization that my kids have their own separate lives now.  They make their own friends, they have their own activities, and their own accomplishments.  They will be known for their own things that they do, not because they are Super Mega Dad's kids, but because they are their own person.  I'll admit, it DID make me feel a little old.

I mean, how did Christopher Columbus' dad feel after Chris discovered the New World?  I bet 'ol Chris' dad had been something like Europe's Hot Dog Eating Champion before Chris discovered the New World, but no one remembers dear 'ol dad at all these days.  What is the Hot Dog Eating Champion versus discovering a whole other continent?

Or what about Albert Einstein's dad?  I can imagine that he was a top regional manager for his company, but Al went out and figured out the whole General Relativity thing and that top regional manager award doesn't look as impressive and shiny anymore.

Then I realized that accomplishment is NOT about what I do in life, what awards I win, or how popular I am in the eyes of my peers.  What accomplishment (to me anyway) is what my kids accomplish in life.  Or thinking even further down the road, what their kids, or grandkids, or great grand kids accomplish in life.  What if someone down the line from me discovers the cure to cancer, or faster than light travel, or figures out a way to solve world hunger.  Wouldn't that also be MY accomplishment as well? 

I've known all along that how I raise my kids is the most important thing I'll do, but this thought really put an exclamation point at the end of that sentence for me.  How I raise my kids, what I teach them, how I treat them, what I show them in life and the lives that they live is the single most important thing that I can do.  Sure, being the coolest guy around, or winning awards for eating the most Cheeto's in 10 minutes is pretty sweet, but being the great granddad of the person that invents faster than light space travel would be even sweeter.  I don't feel as sorry for Christopher Columbus's dad or Albert Einstein's dad, because without THEM, we wouldn't have the New World or General Relativity.

So, now that y'all have had a little glimpse of my deep thoughts when I'm driving around town,  what do y'all think of this?