THIS is my Father's Day post.
I love my kids more than a 58 year old, white male, with a micro sized wiener loves his new Corvette.
I love my kids more than a dog loves the smell of his own shit.
I love my kids more than Joanie loved Chachi.
But God dammit, I hate that fucking Father's Day boutique.
Does anyone know what I'm talking about?
The Father's Day boutique is basically a shitty little indoor garage sale that takes place in elementary schools all over the world. OK, maybe just on Long Island. I can't say for sure. Anyway, they had it when I was a kid and they have it now.
What happens is right before Father's Day, the school sets up a bunch of tables and garnishes them with what seems to be a bunch of items that were made in China but not good enough to make it to the 99 cents store.
The worst part of this horrible tradition is that my kid comes to me with pretty much the sweetest smile you've ever seen and says...
Daughter - "Daaaaaadddddy. You know what today is?"
Out-Numbered - "No"
Daughter - "Today is the Faaaaattthhheeerrrrssss Day Boutique."
Out-Numbered - "Oh. Awesome."
Daughter - "Yes. Mommy gave me $10."
$10? That's all I'm worth? What the fuck?
Out-Numbered - "Is that enough?"
Daughter - "I think so. It's for you and Pop Pop."
$10 for Me AND Pop Pop? Screw Pop Pop. That's bullshit.
Out-Numbered - "Are you sure you don't need anymore money?"
Daughter - "No I'm good."
Yeah. You're good. You're not the one that has to wear a cheap ass, wool tie in the middle of the fucking summer. You're not the one that needs to walk down 6th Ave with a paper towel, constantly wiping your neck sweat on the way to work.
Out-Numbered - "OK great!"
And off she goes...
Now these gifts are cyclical and they all suck. You start to realize this when they begin repeating themselves. In the past, I have been given...
A #1 Dad Coffee Mug
A #1 Dad Key Chain
A Velcro Mets Wallet
A #1 Dad Money Clip
A #1 Dad Glow In The Dark Pencil
A Wool Tie
A #1 Dad Key Chain. Again.
I even think I got an I LOVE DAD Snow Globe one year.
What sick bastard in China makes an I LOVE DAD Snow Globe.
It's just wrong.
So I wait. I wait for next Sunday to come and if my calculations are correct, the spinning wheel of Father's Day Boutique Death, will give forth unto me...
Yet another #1 Dad Coffee Mug.
Oh and you can bet that my sweet wife will be mocking me the entire time. Snickering with jubilant glee.
Go ahead my love. Laugh all you want.
Pay back's a bitch.
Eleven months from now I will scornfully place a $10 bill in our precious little daughter's hand and tell her to bring you home a beautiful plastic rose.
Or perhaps a sparkling, faux gold necklace with an even more faux green gem, set perfectly off center.
Or maybe, just maybe I will encourage her to pick out the shiniest of all snow globes. And this snow globe will profess...
I LOVE MOM.
And nothing says Happy Mother's Day, like a snow globe...
P.S. In the spirit of complete transparency, I thought Father's Day was this Sunday and that is why I wrote this post last night. My wife made me aware of the real date and of the fact that I am a complete and utter Jackass. Because of this, I have changed one of the lines to make it seem as though I knew it was next Sunday. As if anyone cares...