Another day of not getting particularly pampered and hearing people hint that I’m not really a father because I’m a step-father and not a biological father.

Insulting to say the least. Where’s the biological father? Oh, right. He was such an asshole his kids have refused to speak to him for the last decade and a half.

Plus, a monster headache. I’m sure it’ll be a fine day, and I don’t actually insist on the pampering. It makes me uncomfortable, although a few things would be nice, like getting up to feed the cats for me so I could sleep in a little. Or if I get up with the cats, letting me enjoy my quiet time (and she did!), before all the festivities start.

I get beer (which is fine) and a day to run around seeing other dads, so really, it’s like any other weekend, with little time and little peace and no quiet.

The only two things I’ll ever want as a gift. Sleep, or peace and quiet.

I don’t know I’ve seen much of either in years.

Father’s Day makes me uncomfortable at best, but I take it in the spirit it’s given.

Target: 1400 words
Written: 1012 words, novel: Father Lightning