Dads are a special kind of brilliant. They’re every little girl’s first love and every little boy’s first superhero. We believe they’re invincible, and years later the same idea still applies. Unfortunately, their greatness has jaded us. It would appear that being constantly surrounded by their brilliance has left us forgetful of how special dads are. With Father’s Day upon us, it’s high time we appreciate the magic of dads.

Dads have mastered the rabbit-out-of-a-hat trick. The way they are endlessly prepared for the most unforeseeable situations has resulted in the gnarliest magical conjuring to date. We’ve seen them pull bear spray, flip flops, lawn chairs and needle-nose pliers from their backpacks. Don’t even get us started on the sorcery of the glove compartment in their cars.

Another one of their many tricks is the act of disappearing. This trick is most often conjured when the subject of vacuuming and yard work arise, or anytime your family is trying to get the heck out of REI on a Sunday afternoon. While this trick is slightly less useful than others, we’re hoping that one day the magic will rub off onto us for the next time our mom needs someone to load the dishwasher.

Dads are fortune tellers. Their prophetic reminders to bring a jacket and take a water bottle are glimpses into the future that we often foolishly brush off. Luckily, they only use their powers for good in the interest of saving us from being cold and dehydrated.

What sets our dads apart from David Blaine is their fearlessness. They kill the big spiders and investigate the scary noises at the night. While this may seem insignificant, it’s only one example of many in which they protect you from the fears both real and imaginary (see also: monsters under the bed).

They don’t get nearly as much attention for their big day, but they never throw a fuss. Unlike the hoopla that surrounds Mother’s Day, dads are content with the simple things in life.

This Father’s Day will be like every other. We’ll tell our dads that we love them, maybe get them a card and be on our way. We won’t express our appreciation enough; we’ll probably never be able to. We’ve gotten so used to them being everyone’s hero that their cape is just part of their look now. This isn’t a justification for our lack of open admiration, but we hope that they know how much we love them.

Thank you, Dad.

Contact Amanda Chung at [email protected]ilycal.org.