Letters to Marge (Chapter 21): Father's Day

Dear Marge,

Yesterday was supposedly Father’s Day. Happy Father’s Day to me. Yipee. You’re only a month over 2 years old, and still can’t greet me. But every time you reach for me and plead “carry...”, it feels even better than Father’s Day every time.

But hey, i’m not a father without you, of course. So if i get that cool “father’s club” greeting, it will be because of you. And best of all, you make being a father really fun, and totally great.

So i don’t care what kind of lame-ass marketing they threw around yesterday. Father’s Day was YOUR day, Marge-baby, because THIS father is YOUR father. You make being a dad cool.

By the way, you love positioning yourself at the edge of a bed, then telling me “jump!” which means that you’re asking me to catch you, and i do. Your mother hates it when we do that. She thinks you’ll hurt yourself with that stunt someday. (Just thought i’d say that...)

So, was Father’s Day exceptionally happy? Hell, no. Every day is happy, when you’re around.

‘catch you later, kid.

Love,

Dad