On Father’s Day, Or What It REALLY Should Be Called

As Father’s Day approaches, I always seem to take this day with something of a massive grain of salt. Because, let’s face, fathers don’t really ever get the love mothers do. And rightly so, because some dads suck. 

Okay, but what about the dads that don’t suck, the ones that haven’t left their kids (or their kids’ mommas) or pulled a Bing Crosby and got all liquored up on Scotch and used their kids as battering rams? What about the dads that never missed a ballet recital – even if little Cindy looked like a drooling spazz in a tutu, and you put on a brave face while your daughter looked horrifically inept – or missed your son’s soccer game – let’s face, little Jason ain’t going to be the next Lionel Messi. He’s messy, alright.

Us dads that actually care aren’t going to be showered with all the love mothers get. Yes, I know, it’s mothers that carry their children in the womb for nine months, and nurture their children, and it’s always Mom who the kids run for when they’ve fallen and scraped the shit out of themselves. Moms will always get more love. For example, at my daughter’s kindergarten class, the kids put on a play for mothers, complete with songs and artwork and all kinds of awesome. For the dads? Some stale donuts. Thanks for showing up, Dad!

Tomorrow, millions of us Dads will get gifts we don’t want, like Old Spice and a necktie we’ll never wear. How about a gift we do want, like a new grill, or some decent seats to a pro football game? Or maybe sending the kids to the grandparents, so me and Mom can spend a few hours, you know, makin’ whoopie? You know, gifts a dad can actually enjoy?  Listen, I’ve got enough wrenches and screwdriver sets. I could use a nice stereo system. Or maybe just a few hours alone, so I can write. That would be nice.

But I mustn’t be ungrateful. After all, it’s entirely possible for a day like Father’s Day to not exist whatsoever. Fair enough. So if I do get a pizza-vomit patterned necktie, or a card made with macaroni, I’ll accept my gift most graciously. It’s my day, after all, and I’m being looked after.

Let’s be honest, though: Father’s Day isn’t really a day to celebrate all the accomplishments Dads have done throughout the years. It’s the day to celebrate the one thing Dads have done right: knock a woman up.

So I propose changing the name of “Father’s Day” to name more appropriate. I say we change the name to Motherfucker’s Day.

Who’s with me?

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3 thoughts on “On Father’s Day, Or What It REALLY Should Be Called

  1. That cracked me up! I always figure on Fathers’ Day, the Dad should spend the day with the kids, as a treat since he works too much and doesn’t get enough time with them the rest of the year.

    On Mothers’ Day, of course, I expect a serious break from parenting.

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