Dino Dad

When I was a little kid my mother took me to buy a Father's Day gift for my father. I was probably five or six years old. The only thing I could find that he could possibly appreciate was a bag of plastic dinosaurs. I mean, I thought they were really cool, he would obviously think the same thing.
   So when his Father's Day came he opened the package of plastic dinosaurs and seemed underwhelmed. I took the time to explain them to him - the green one would eat the orange one, except the orange one was really big, you see - but he still showed more interest in the socket wrench set. I even told him they would be great in the bathtub, but he'd moved on to the beige turtleneck sweater. I thought maybe I hadn't given him such a great present after all.
   A few days later I followed my mother into my father's bathroom, and there, in the shower, were the dinosaurs, arranged in descending order by size, right next to the shampoo and below the soap-on-a-rope.
   I thought that was pretty cool. Thanks, Dad.