Fictional Fathers - Clark Griswold: It’ll Be Fun... Right?
Am I creating memories... or trying to create perfect memories?
The Question
There are moments in fatherhood when I become strangely attached to an outcome.
The perfect camping trip. The perfect vacation. The perfect Christmas morning. The perfect baseball game. The perfect family photo.
None of those are bad things to hope for.
The problem is that somewhere along the way, I quietly start believing my family’s experience depends on my plan working exactly the way I imagined it.
And when it doesn’t...
I can spend so much energy trying to rescue the day that I forget to enjoy the people I’m trying to create it for.
The Character
No fictional dad commits harder to creating family memories than Clark Griswold.
Every vacation. Every Christmas.
Every family adventure.
He starts with the same vision...
This is going to be unforgettable.
In European Vacation, he gets stuck driving in a loop around London. Every time he circles past Big Ben and Parliament, he lights up like it’s the first time.
“Look kids, Big Ben! Parliament!”
Again. And again. And again. Same landmarks. Same enthusiasm. Same belief that this moment matters.
Or when Clark finally gets his family to Wally World after every possible disaster, only to find the park closed for repairs. He starts to unravel, that crazed look creeping in like everything is about to fall apart.
Or when he decides he needs the most decorated house on the street for Christmas and becomes so focused on it that it feels like his kids won’t have a great Christmas without it.
Ironically...
he’s right.
Just not for the reasons he expected.
Clark believes the memory lives in the plan. If the destination works. If the lights turn on. If everything goes exactly how he pictured it, then the memory will be worth it.
But life keeps interrupting his script.
The car breaks down. The destination disappoints. The lights don’t work. The squirrel gets loose. Nothing goes according to plan. And that’s where most of us lose it.
We lose it. Our kids lose it. Everyone around us loses it.
When the plan falls apart, it feels like the memory is slipping away with it.
But Clark accidentally shows us something else. The memory was never in the plan. It was in the trying. It was in the ridiculous effort. It was in the dad who refused to stop showing up, even when everything was going sideways.
Decades later, families still watch those movies together.
It clearly isn’t because Clark created perfect experiences.
It’s because he created moments people remember.
Real moments where things don’t go perfectly, but dad still shows up.
Moments where the kids groan, the mom eye-rolls, and dad overcompensates with energy, smiles, and ill-timed dad jokes. Underneath all the chaos was a dad who desperately wanted his family to have something special.
His plans failed. His heart rarely did.
In My House
Every summer I build a list and calendar.
Camping trips. Scout adventures. Baseball tournaments. Bike rides. Bonfires. Projects around the house.
I picture all of it in my head...
the conversations, the laughs, the memories we’ll make.
I balance that with our Camp Linne, a Google Classroom experience that helps the boys with summer learning loss. Reading challenges through the library. Khan Academy for math. Writing prompts. Special missions like fire building, bike trips, and LEGO challenges that help them achieve the next Boy Scout rank. Throw in some typing practice for good measure.
Thirty to forty-five minutes of work daily, perfectly aligned with our swim meet schedule, camping weekends, and summer vacations.
When perfectly implemented, they will learn new skills academically, experience new challenges, and have trips to remember for a lifetime.
Parents applaud me.
The kids generally don’t complain.
And I feel like the amazing dad who can plan for it all.
Reality usually has other ideas. Someone gets sick. It rains. A game gets canceled. Someone is tired. Someone argues. The burgers burn. The mosquitoes show up before the marshmallows do.
And if I’m not careful, I can spend the entire evening trying to fix what went wrong instead of noticing what’s still going right.
Sometimes by rescheduling the learning for that day. Sometimes by begrudgingly telling them they can skip it. Almost always getting a look from my wife that implies I should take a breath and let my Clark Griswold mind take a break.
I’ve caught myself thinking, “This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.”
The boys, meanwhile...
are catching frogs.
Laughing at something completely unrelated.
Turning sticks into swords.
Making memories I never planned.
Most of the time, I’m the only one disappointed.
The Dad Move
Maybe that’s what Clark Griswold teaches me. Our kids are rarely chasing perfection.
They’re chasing fun, love, and connectedness.
The memory isn’t the laundry list of things they were able to see or do.
It’s how the seemingly mundane moments made them feel...
The joke everyone laughed at but no one can remember
The rainstorm that ruined dinner but inspired an impromptu rain dance.
The wrong turn that became an emergency pit stop at a gas station with the best tacos.
Sometimes the story worth remembering is the one that happened when the plan completely fell apart...
and dad chose to stay present long enough to enjoy it anyway.
The Reset
The older my boys get, the more I realize I don’t have nearly as much control as I think I do.
Weather changes.
Schedules change.
Kids change.
Plans change.
That’s life.
So this week, I’m taking one question with me:
Am I creating memories...
or trying to create perfect memories?
And maybe the reset is simple.
Hold the schedule loosely.
Laugh a little sooner.
Pivot a little faster.
Notice what’s still good.
Because the story your kids tell years from now...
probably won’t be the one you spent all day trying to protect.
It’ll be the one you never saw coming.