An anonymously written online article said that the joy and affirmation of fatherhood is for a man to have his children call him by one little three-letter word.

“When they call you dad with a certain tone of affection in their voice,” the article said, “you have earned their love and respect. Of course, when they’re young and they call you daddy, that’s pretty cool, too.”

I had thought that all children call their father “Dad.” Nobody calls him “Father” like they did way back in the day, or as a formality in very wealthy families.

The article went on to say, “There is a big difference between a man who’s a father and a man who’s a dad. A father is biological and emotionally unattached. A dad can be biological or not, but he is endearing to his children.”

I thought about that. There is a difference in inference when an adult son or daughter says, “My father is coming to dinner” or “My dad is coming to dinner.” The word “father” sounds distant and indifferent compared to the warm fuzzy we men feel when our kids call us “Dad.”

I thought of an example to further prove the point. Let’s say a boy has a baseball game to play at 4 o’clock today. A father works until 7 p.m., so he’ll tell his kid he can’t make the game. A dad will figure out a way to leave work early so he can be there to watch his son play ball.

That reminded me of my brother-in-law. Years ago, his son was pitching in a state championship game. My brother-in-law was a tractor-trailer driver. He told his boss he was going to leave work early and drive his big rig to the game.

On the way to the game, his truck broke down. Stranded on the side of the road, he told his boss he was leaving the truck and going to the game. He walked 4 miles to the field. He showed up in the first inning and then watched his son pitch the team to a championship victory.

Now, that’s a dad, I thought. Not only did my brother-in-law plan to go to the game, he was so determined to be there for his boy, and look what he did so he could see him play. His son will never, ever, forget that. Any boy would also have never forgotten if his father wasn’t there.

When I was growing up, we feared our fathers much more than we loved them. Step out of line and you got the belt. I never saw any affectionate side of my father. Most of my friends said the same thing about theirs, too.

“Your father works hard to put a roof over your head,” said our mothers, “and food on the table, and clothes on your back. You should be grateful.”

Not to minimize the importance of the creature comforts we had, but we wanted more from our fathers. I remember when I was around 14 and one of my buddies would say, “My dad is taking me fishing on his day off from work” and another would say, ‘My old man will be knocking back some beers and watching TV and he’ll holler for me when he needs another bottle.”

When my son was born, I was overwhelmed with joy. I wanted to do anything and everything to be his dad and not his father. I changed his diapers. I warmed his baby formula and I walked him to sleep in my arms in the middle of the night and then a few hours later, I went to work.

After my daughter was born, I cared for her the same way. When she got to be around 3 years old, I held a concert in her room every night before she fell asleep. I danced her stuffed animals across her bed and Biscuit, her favorite stuffed dog, sang her silly songs with my voice. She laughed and loved it all. And on her fifth birthday, I surprised her with a visit from Cinderella, her favorite Disney character. When Cinderella began to walk up our driveway wearing her glass slippers and her blue dress, I will never forget the expression on my little girl’s face that day.

Now she’s a month and a half away from being 15 years old.

Being a dad shouldn’t be a chore. The whole idea of the difference between a dad and a father has become clearer to me. A dad plays catch with his son. A father tells his boy he’s too busy or he’s too tired. A dad lets his daughter play Taylor Swift songs in his car. A father says, “This is my car and when you’re in my car, you listen to my music.”

We fathers have to earn the right to be called dads. Our kids deserve nothing less from us. We want our sons to grow up and become good young men, and husbands and dads, too, and our daughters to choose to marry men with similar qualities that they see in us.

Tomorrow is not Father’s Day. Tomorrow is Dad’s Day and It is this dad’s wish for every man who is raising a child into this world to realize the difference between the two words.

For all the great dads out there, I lift my glass and salute you. And for the fathers, I say it’s never too late to be the dad your kids have always wanted. Give them your time, not just your money. Love them with your actions, not just your words.

Imagine if every father was a dad, what a wonderful world this could be.

Rich Strack can be reached at richiesadie11@gmail.com.