I’m sure I’ve mentioned my father was a deadbeat. And when I did meet him when I was 18, he blamed my grandmother for telling him to not even bother being in my life. And even though I wanted to forge a relationship then, he said nah — we hadn’t had one for 18 years. Why bother now?
I commend my grandmother for her foresight into what a loser he was. I see my friend’s daughter going through the same thing with her baby daddy. We were joking that he probably expects to be thrown a parade today when the man hasn’t bought so much as a diaper in the six months that his kid has been in this world. My friend said she was going to the dollar-store section of Target to get him a plastic “No. 1 Dad” trophy. lol.
Meanwhile I have friends who are going to be amazing parents, whose little blessing just hasn’t been conceived yet. But oh, how they try. I mean, scientific intervention trying at all costs. And it makes me nuts that fathers like mine and dollar-store dumbass can just create life upon command.
Speaking of dumbasses, Whorothy is all over Facebook, shitting on TG’s page about her love for A Major Sex-Symbol Actor. If I know TG, it’s making him feel like shit with all her waxing poetic about all of the actor’s attributes. And his money. She should quit acting like said actor would even look at her homely, incoherent Crypt-Keeper-looking ass. Gawd.
It’s taking everything in me to not leave a comment to instruct the Crypt Keeper to go hang out with her homely kids and baby daddy. Not only that, but to also snark that all she can do is hope and pray that Hot Actor has vision problems like all the other men in her life. (I can confirm one of them does have bad eyes; the other, we just assume.)
Since this woman turns me into a mean asshole, let me indulge …
I’ve been wanting to ask if the youngest kid is even the baby daddy’s. The adults are as nondescript (and lookalike) as wallpaper paste, and the oldest kids look like their doppelgangers. The youngest, however, looks like he might be the milkman’s kid. I wonder if he’s TG’s but I don’t have balls enough to ask.
So anyway, in the spirit of Father’s Day, happy day to the poor suckers who are attracted to the Whorothys of the world and who love their kids (biologically theirs or not) and even do their damndest to support and love the psycho gold-digging whores who all too eagerly spread their legs for anyone who would look at them.
Happy day to all those amazing men who exist to prove all the girls like me wrong — that there really are real men out there who not only own up to their spilled seed, but who love the shit out of their kids every minute of every day of their lives. And the children’s mothers, too, but that should go without saying.
Happy day to the moms and grandmothers like mine who sent the deadbeats packing so they couldn’t add a layer of drama that we kids may never have recovered from.
Happy day to the grandfathers, uncles and other men who stepped in and showed us that biology does not a dad make.
An especially happy day to my grandfather up in heaven, for loving me like his own. And, if we’re honest, maybe a little more than his own, because that’s who I came from.
And maybe above that, the happiest day of all to the man I’m meant to be with. Whether we have kids or not, or whether he comes with one pre-made, I don’t care. Thank you for saving yourself for me and thank you for the incredible adventures we’re going to have.
Because, really, all these Father’s Day and Mother’s Day holidays should be just as applicable to those of us who are pet parents or otherwise decent human beings — having a child does not a good parent make. And as long as we keep being good to each other, these holidays are just as much for us as anyone.