I grew up believing I had the greatest father in the world. I still think so. It always baffles me, however, why my brother has a very different opinion.

My brother and I are only two years apart. We had the same parents, lived in the same apartment, went to the same school. We even shared the same bedroom until I turned 15. Many of our tastes and opinions were the same. The one thing we never agreed on was how our father performed in his capacity as a father.

It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I finally asked my brother why he didn’t love Dad as much as I did. He told me that father never played football with him; he never showed him how to work on a car; they never had a “guy talk.” As a matter of fact, they hardly ever talked. My brother was very close to my mother though. Not that she ever played ball with him or showed him how to fix the car. She wasn’t expected to.

I thought about this, and it all made sense. I didn’t need my father to play football with me, nor did I care about cars. And while my brother felt he never had a father, to me our father was both a father and a mother. He took me to the movies every Monday night, we talked about boys, he even introduced me to hair-removal. He well exceeded my expectations for him.

In short, I realized that how we perceive our parents (and how our children perceive us) depends on expectations, which are ingrained in a child since early age—by us, by TV shows, by friends and relatives. Do we as parents have the greatest influence on our children’s expectations? On theory we should, but I don’t believe that’s true in real life. The best thing to do is be aware of the role our children expect us to play and fulfill the expectations.

Remember, it’s not about us and our expectations from our kids. We can get angry when they disappoint us, but we forgive them—they are still young and learning. What is our excuse for disappointing them?