Happy Fathers’ Day (I didn’t get you anything). I feel that it is only necessary I declare the things I love most about you (I’ll stick to the big ones and keep it short because it’s the weekend and I’m too lazy to do all of them. I won’t even proofread anything).
You are my role model, my inspiration in many aspects of life (your illegible handwriting inspired my illegible handwriting). You are my mentor in life. I admire you an I’ve looked up to you my entire life (I just don’t look at you directly. I’m afraid if I make direct eye contact with you, you will see deep into my soul and start reading my thoughts, and that’s just unnerving). You have been my guiding light throughout the years. You appreciate and reward my successes, while simultaneously correcting me where I fail (although I know you secretly smiled that time I messed up my hair and I had to get rid of it. You skipped your weekly shave twice in a row to taunt me).
You have always aspired to give me the best you could, never making compromises (except that time I was born and you looked at a world with people named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Clint Eastwood & Napoleon Bonaparte then decided to just call me Kevin. Why did you do this to me? Why did you force me to go out and find myself a better name?). Since childhood, you have always made me feel safe (your height traumatized me as a child. I didn’t know anything scarier until I was like four. The beard you had back then hurt my little baby hands).
You have a wonderful sense of humor that I seek to emulate (you’ve never laughed at a single thing I’ve ever said, and the day you do is the day I know you’ve been kidnapped and replaced by the Illuminati). I appreciate how you give us the freedom to express ourselves freely, our talents and hobbies without fear or bounds (I still can’t play loud music in the house. Why is that?). You and I have a strong father-son connection that I am grateful for (it’s the reason I can sense your conscience mocking me every time you shave your hair that inexplicably grows ten times faster than mine. That pains me. Why didn’t you give me those genes?). You are honest and never hide the truth from us, no matter how hurtful it may be (although you could hold back on the looks of disappointment you give me when I get up at 3p.m after 29 straight hours of sleep. I really love my sleep. Speaking of which, I have to sign off now because I’m tired).
Happy Fathers’ Day.