Daddy. You Awesome Bastard.

Dear Daddy,

First of all, Happy Father’s Day. And thanks for being a pretty awesome bastard.

Secondly, (and I feel really shit that I’m the one to break this to you), I’ve recently found out that Mummy has been sending you Father’s Day cards for the last couple of years and doing some kind of weird left-handed-writing thingy to pass it off as my signature… Treacherous skank. Although considering I spend most of my days barking at plastic ladybirds and eating pears without removing the cores, it shouldn’t really surprise you that I can’t yet sign my own name… In fact it’s amazing I’m typing this really…

But anyway. I digress.

I wanted to take this opportunity to assess your Daddy-ing over the past year and offer some useful tips and advice for next year’s assessment:

When I take the time out of my busy schedule to make you a personalised pirate hat, I expect you to f@*king wear it. The same goes for the pasta bracelet I gave you at Easter which you’ve conveniently ‘not found an occasion for’I’m watching you.
I do not accept your version of hide and seek: I am always the seeker, I get to look where you hide before finding you, and you get to look surprised. That’s just the way it is. 
Please leave the melon hedgehogs to Mummy in future. I think you know why. 
I’m tired‘, ‘my back hurts‘ and ‘it’s 3am in the morning‘ are not acceptable excuses for getting out of Daddy-Horsey-Ridey-Time. When I say the word, you WILL drop onto all fours, let me whip you with headless Iggle Piggle and ride you like my own personal mechanical bitch. 
I can see your hair. And that’s the main reason I don’t want you anywhere near mine. 
I now know the ‘National Croissant Shortage’ you told me about last week was A LIE. And I plan of having you beaten for this. That’s right… I know people. 
Now I’m two and a half, I think we both know who would win in a ‘fart-off‘ Father. That’s right, the student becomes the master… 
Touch my scooter while I’m scootering again and I will f@*k you up quicker than a brand new pot of Play-doh. 
Don’t ever grow a beard again. I literally shit myself for three days straight last time because I thought you’d put your head on upside down without realising. 
Also. You should know that when I grow up I want to be Batman. 

Love you. Until next year…



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