I bragged today, while my dad opened his Father’s Day gifts (which my mom purchased, but for which their four children took credit), about how I was the one that made him a dad. I am, after all, the oldest child. My mother followed up by stating that, clearly, my dad did not think he did a sufficient job fathering me, which is why they decided to have three more kids. Love was in the air.
But seriously, I did teach my dad a lot. I taught him what it meant to be a first time dad, and how high maintenance and absolutely psychotic daughters can sometimes be.