I don't know about you, but growing up I was a little prince. I suppose I was assigned a few menial tasks here and there (take out the trash, go to the store), but the arrival of younger siblings solved all that. I was never required (nor did I show much inclination to learn how) to change lightbulbs, screw things together (although I could screw them up very well), put up pictures or lights, check the car, use power tools.
Dad was there for all that. The Dad. This omnipotent, towering figure of our childhood; close to us, loving, cheerful, tangible and yet also a demi-god, residing in the heavens whence also came all answers to our problems. Dish washer out of whack? Dad knew how to fix it. Stereo wouldn't start up? At least he'd tinker with it before calling it quits and buying a new one. Plugs, lights, fixtures, bicycles (oh! how he could fix those flat tyres, as if magically) Dad was there. And keep in mind my dad is a cardiologist, not a handyman, farmer or mechanic.
Imagine my astonishment (and secret pride) when I found out that I, the prince, was slowly turning into Dad. I found out that for all my clumsiness, I could after all change a lightbulb. Put up a picture. I discovered aghast, that I could use basic power tools without losing a toe. I could repair some defunct appliances, put furniture together and take it apart - and fix broken things.
Most of all, imagine my surprise when it dawned on me that my dad and probably The Dad everywhere, probably did not know how work all these miracles at birth. He probably learnt by trial and error, the hard way, just like I am now.
Appreciate your fathers and love them, for behind their countenance, whether it be stern or cheerful, serious or goofy, perfect or flawed, hides a giant. A giant that conquers all adversity - or at least attempts to - just for you.