You may find this a bit hard to believe, but we’re a pretty sentimental lot, us dads.

Simple and sentimental.

For weeks, you’ve been asking what we’d want for Father’s Day.

We keep telling you that we’re fine. Save your money. We have everything we need. More than enough. Really.

What about a tie?

We don’t wear ties.

An electric drill?

We don’t want to drill.

A set of golf clubs?

Who has time to play golf?

Gotta get you something.

Fine. Take us to dinner. Offer to pay. Don’t worry – we’ll pick up the tab.

We meant it.

If you haven’t gotten your dad a gift yet, just wait. For while preferences differ between younger and older generations, the underlying message is the same: what fathers want most is to feel remembered and appreciated. 

A recent survey by YouGov found that among the top three things dads really want most from their kids this Father’s Day is to eat a meal with them.

For most dads (56 percent), Father’s Day is best spent with their children or grandchildren. Sharing a meal at home is the second most popular choice, at 44 percent. Going out to eat or drink also ranked highly, chosen by 36 percent of the respondents.

Younger dads are more likely to enjoy material gifts. Forty percent of dads 18-34 would like a gift of clothing compared to only 3 percent of those 65 and older. The youngest dads are also more interested in tools, gift cards, holidays and experiences.

In contrast, older fathers like me are far more focused on connection than consumption. Among dads aged 65 and older, 51 percent said they would most appreciate a phone call or visit from their children or grandchildren. 

Now, I don’t know how the questions were asked, but I can guarantee you can’t go wrong with getting Dad a 55-inch high-definition television with a sound bar. I’m just saying.

When I was a kid, my dad would guarantee his own Father’s Day gift by getting up early on Sunday morning to make me breakfast.

Some weeks, it was pancakes shaped like a letter. Other times, he’d make me a LEO (lox, eggs and onions) scrambled.

My favorite, and a Father’s Day staple, was kippers and onions, a delicacy that would leave an aroma – some might call it a stench – wafting in the kitchen for months.

I’m not suggesting Dad was some Galloping Gourmet. After all, we’re talking about opening a few cans of kippers, chopping some onions and mixing them together. But I don’t think the finest chefs in Europe could have cooked up anything more satisfying on those Sunday mornings. And I’m not just talking about the food.

I’m sure he didn’t relish getting up early to make breakfast for my brother and me after working late the night before. Dad was an entertainer, and every Saturday night was a late night.

But on Sundays, our small Brooklyn kitchen was his stage. While Dad prepped, I would run a few blocks to Kings Highway for bagels and the Sunday Daily News. Dad got Dick Young and I got Dick Tracy.

We’d make small talk about the Mets, my friends and his work. We’d eat slowly.

On Father’s Day, I’d hand him a card that I bought “on the highway” and usually something I made in school. One year, as a gift, I even let him take me to Shea Stadium.

Dads know that ties, TVs, and tools are forgotten over time. They get lost in the closet, tossed in the trash or buried in the basement. But the memories of the meal together can last a lifetime.

Barry Lewis is a longtime journalist and author who lives with his wife Bonnie in the Town of Neversink. He can be reached at      barrylewisscdemocrat@gmail.com.