Alright, fellow parents, gather ‘round. Today, we’re diving into the warm, slightly awkward world of dad hugs. That’s right—I’m talking about the kind of hugs that are mandatory, heartfelt, and occasionally met with the kind of resistance usually reserved for broccoli or bedtime.

Here’s the deal: I’ve started a new thing with Hari and Max. It’s called the Daily Dad Hug™. No, it’s not a new cryptocurrency or a fitness trend. It’s exactly what it sounds like: once a day, no matter what, we stop everything, drop the iPads, and hug it out. No distractions, no squirming (okay, maybe a little squirming), just me, them, and a whole lot of love.

Now, let me set the scene for you. Picture this: Hari and Max are in the middle of something very important, like building a Lego tower that’s approximately 0.2 seconds away from collapsing or arguing over who gets to be the pet in the Stealth Game (explanation still pending). And then, like a superhero but with less spandex and more dad bod, I swoop in and declare, “It’s hug time!”

Cue the groans.

“Diddums,” (that's one of my many names) Hari whines, dragging out the word like it’s a hostage negotiation. “We’re busy!”

“Yeah,” Max chimes in, because he’s at that age where he thinks agreeing with his brother makes him sound cool. “We’re busy.”

But here’s the thing: I don’t care. I’m the the hug enforcer. I’m stealthy, I’m determined, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Because here’s the secret sauce, folks—this isn’t just about hugs. This is about connection. This is about reminding them that no matter how big they get, no matter how much they roll their eyes at me, they’ll always be my little dudes. And they’ll always be loved. Like, a lot.

Now, I’m not saying it’s always easy. Sometimes, the Daily Dad Hug™ feels less like a Hallmark moment and more like trying to cuddle a pair of feral cats. There’s wriggling. There’s complaining. There’s the occasional accidental elbow to the ribs. But here’s the magic: by the end of it, they’re hugging me back. And not just the kind of hug where they pat me on the back like I’m a coworker they barely know. I’m talking full-on, arms-around-the-neck, genuine hugs.

And let me tell you, those hugs? They’re worth every second of the struggle.

Of course, I’ve had to get creative with my approach. On school mornings (Thursdays and Fridays, specifically—don’t ask, it’s a scheduling thing), I give them the KCN option: Kiss, Cuddle, or Nothing. It’s democracy in action! It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure book, but with less dragons and more dad jokes. Most of the time, they go for the cuddle, because apparently kissing your dad in public is the ultimate embarrassment. (Which, by the way, I find hilarious. Someday, they’ll realize that embarrassing your kids is one of the great joys of parenthood.)

But at home? Oh, at home, we’re a benevolent dictatorship, there’s no KCN. It’s non-negotiable. It’s mandatory. It’s the law. The hug must happen. And you know what? They’re starting to get it. They’re starting to realize that these hugs aren’t just about me being a sappy dad (though, let’s be honest, I am). They’re about keeping our family close, even when life gets busy and chaotic and messy.

So, to all the parents out there: don’t underestimate the power of a good hug. Sure, your kids might act like you’re torturing them. Sure, they might squirm and complain and try to wriggle away. But deep down, they need those hugs just as much as you do. And someday, when they’re all grown up and too cool for school, they’ll look back and remember those moments. They’ll remember the dad who stopped everything, just to remind them how much they’re loved.

And who knows? Maybe they’ll even pass it on to their own kids.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go track down Hari and Max. It’s 3:47 p.m., and I’m pretty sure I saw them hiding in the laundry room to avoid today’s Daily Dad Hug™.

So stay clingy, parents. And keep hugging.

Love from Dad (and part-time Emotional Hostage Negotiator)