It's that time of year again when you ask your dad to grill out hamburgers in hot dogs in honor of your visit home for Father's Day. Poor guy never gets a break, does he? I'm home for the weekend to toast to good old D-A-D, or as he's known in this circle, Pops, and so far I've asked him to cook dinner, open a stuck window, kill a bug, join me in town tomorrow for a Civil War reenactment, and, sure, I'll be honest, I asked him for 20 bucks. Sue me.
But Pops knows I love him. I don't take 5 hour bus rides for just anyone. And I think he likes helping me? I hope? Anyway, I realize that my presence and my requests for aide do not necessarily a gift make, so I thought of some poems he might like as well. Feel free to re-use for your dads!
And just to save some face here and not seem like a total jerk, I did get him a small present, but I can't really say what it is lest he not be surprised by the tie and wolf urine that I hid in the garage.
Without further ado, here are some Father's Day poems to give your old man this Sunday:
For my dad who never embarrassed me too much:
Thanks for raising me in a sweet pad,
and for not making too much fun of me during my Backstreet Boys fad,
and for being the Good Cop when I was bad,
and for buying me a Blizzard when I was sad,
and for not wearing pants of plaid.
That made me really glad.
For my dad who puts up with my ridiculousness:
Dad, I know I owe you a lot,
Appreciation is never what you sought.
You drove me to soccer, you drove me to school.
You paid for my stitches when I fell off that bar stool.
You pick up my pieces,
Co-sign my subleases,
I'm sure without you, I'd be with the polices.
For my dad, the handyman:
Roses are red,
Chlorine is blue.
Thanks for keeping the pool clean.
I really appreciate it.
For my dad, the sports and pop culture connoisseur:
I love that you watch the Real Housewives
And that you love King of Queens
Those are my favorite shows, too
It's clear I'm of your genes.
We differ though when it comes to sports
I couldn't care less about the Redskins
Honestly, can't we watch the Housewives?
It's the one when Ramona takes on Jill Zarin!
Fine, fine, no no,
We can watch football.
But these nachos and sodas
Are going to be our downfall.
I don't care if you don't want to exercise,
It's for your own good.
We made it together this far,
I need you around for my adulthood.
I love you, Pops! Happy Father's Day everydad!
Photo via Jim, The Photographer/Flickr