Here's the truth nobody thinks about:
One day your kid is going to be 30. 40. 50.
And someone's going to ask about their childhood. About their dad.
They're going to answer with a sentence.
"My dad and I used to ______."
That sentence is your legacy. That's what survives. That's what they carry.
Not the stuff you bought them. Not the roof over their head. Not the food on the table.
The thing you did together.
"My dad and I used to go fishing."
"My dad and I used to work on cars."
"My dad and I used to go treasure hunting."
What's in your blank right now?
Is it full? Or is it empty?
You're writing that sentence every weekend. Every "yes" or "not today." Every Saturday morning you show up or sleep in.
The sentence is being written right now.
Make sure it's worth remembering.