First of all, I’m just going to come out and say Happy Father’s Day. Father’s Day is a great day for all of us to take a moment of our time to acknowledge the most important man in our lives, the reason we’re all here: our fathers. Most people probably go through their daily lives giving little thought to their fathers, but not me. I’m aware of you and the profound influence you’ve had on my life every second of every day. Every time I swipe my credit card, I thank you for funding my ridiculous spending habits without making me get a “job” for the first 21 years of my life. Every time someone says I’m “entitled,” I just remember that I probably do have an enormous sense of entitlement, but it’s fine, because you raised me to believe I deserve to have one. I thank you for always taking my sides in arguments with mom. I’m even willing to forgive you for giving me your dark, curly hair that can only be tamed with Keratin treatments. We all have our flaws, I guess.
As much as I could go on and on about how much I love you and how much I’m thankful that you provided me with the privileged upbringing you did, I think there are a few other people that would like to pay their respects to you, my Daddy, on Father’s Day.
I’ve never really felt adequate enough to deserve male attention, and I over compensated a lot by being a little too promiscuous, so, the following give their regards:
On behalf of all of the boys I blew in high school in order to win Prom Queen, thank you for missing my ballet recital when I was six.
On behalf of the frat boys I slept with during undergrad, thanks for going on all of those business trips during my high school years. I never would have learned my highly acclaimed skills if I hadn’t been able to have parties while you and mom were gone, which means I wouldn’t have been able to practice losing my virginity at all those parties I threw.
On behalf of every boy I’ve ever dated, thanks for “having to work late” all of those nights. I’m sure they totally appreciate all of the times I’ve gone through their phones, or thrown an X box off of a third floor balcony because they forgot to call.
On behalf of the guys who have had the pleasure of having a semi-functional relationship with me, thanks for cheating on mom with a girl half your age. Because you’ve instilled the fear of being replaced by a younger model in me, I’ve made sure to not only apply anti-aging cream religiously, but to live in fear of carbs.
On behalf of every guy I’ve ever sent pictures of my boobs to, thank you for always holding me to an impossible standard. Because of my need for approval, I’ve been tricked into sending regrettable text images of myself. Apparently, all it takes to get a picture of my boobs is, “I can’t really remember what they look like…they must not have been very memorable.”
On behalf of my bases on my high school and college cheerleading teams, thanks for all of the emotional stress that led to my excellent use of bulimia. I really appreciate you forgetting all of those parent teacher conferences in middle school.
On behalf of the tattoo artist that inked the miniscule mistake on my hip bone when I was 18, thanks for thinking that sending me to an expensive private school was a good replacement for actual parenting.
On behalf of every bartender who’s ever served me, thanks for ruining my 16th birthday by buying me a black convertible instead of a red one.
On behalf of every guy I’ve ever met, thanks for giving me all of these issues. I may not be emotionally stable, but at least I’m fun.
Please still love me.