If only.

Growing up, I had no clue that other dad’s weren’t like mine. To my dad, I was an interruption, and a barrier, and an annoying distraction.

I thought it was just the way men were, for a long time. Moms raised the kids and kept them out of dad’s way so he could live his life unencumbered.

Family stuff was me and mom. Dad didn’t do that. If he had to attend one of my events, he had to be drunk. Make a huge production about how much hassle it was and anyway I could go on but I’m not going to.

Yes. Dads.

So fucking important.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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