Hey there, buddy,
You might recall that I shared a similar note on Mother’s Day, where I encouraged you to behave, allowing your mom to kick back and enjoy her day. This letter, however, has a different vibe. It’s about me, so I can be a bit more open. Plus, until football season kicks off, Sundays hold little significance for me—this upcoming one included.
That’s right, this Sunday is Father’s Day. But here’s the deal: you don’t need to stress about it. I don’t require any gifts from you—not a tie, a handcrafted card, or even golf lessons. I don’t even expect you to be on your best behavior (though you should always aim for that). Just relax.
I know, it sounds strange. As a child, I was baffled by my dad—your grandpa—who never seemed to want anything for Father’s Day, Christmas, or even his own birthday, aside from the classic wish for his kids to get along. For kids, presents are a big deal, so I couldn’t fathom not wanting any. But now that I’m a dad myself, I get it.
First off, kids often give not-so-great gifts. Secondly, once you become a parent, you realize that the most meaningful gifts aren’t wrapped in fancy paper. It’s the warm hugs at bedtime, the bursts of laughter when I tickle you, and those precious extra minutes of sleep you grant me every so often. None of these moments are tied to a holiday—they’re just you being you. And that’s really all I need, day in and day out.
Just because this Sunday is labeled Father’s Day doesn’t change anything for me. It’s not more special than any other Sunday, Saturday, or weekday. I don’t need a fancy brunch to celebrate my “sacrifices” or my dedication as a father, especially not from you. Why should my child reward me for simply not being a terrible dad?
I already know I’m doing alright as a father. I’m not boasting or claiming to be the ultimate dad, but I’m confident I’m not failing because I genuinely love being your dad. I don’t seek your acknowledgment for fulfilling my role—much like Kid Rock put it, I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.
I appreciate recognition like anyone else, but fatherhood isn’t about accolades. So, feel free to take it easy.
You might be wondering if this means you can skip being nice to your mom on Mother’s Day as well. That’s really up to her. (Hint: probably not.) And we’re not going to scrap Father’s Day either. While I don’t need validation to keep doing a job I cherish—even when it’s a struggle, like during potty training—I do understand that these holidays are less about the honorees and more about the celebrators. Celebrating loved ones is a joy, and that’s why you get presents at Christmas. The true gift is seeing your happiness. That’s all I really want from you this weekend.
Well, that’s the main gift I expect from you. Because Father’s Day? That’s really a day for your mom to handle.
Much love,
Your Dad
P.S. I wouldn’t mind one of those beer-of-the-month subscriptions, though. And maybe some tickets for that new Mad Max film. Just mention it to your mom.
In summary, Father’s Day is less about tangible gifts and more about the love and laughter shared between a father and child. While it’s nice to celebrate, the best moments come from simply being together. Remember, every day is a chance to show appreciation, and that’s what truly counts.
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