Friday, June 15, 2007

The perfect Father's Day gift: guilt

Because, as a working dad, there's nothing I need more than to be reminded--by an insurance company, no less--that the welfare of my family is dependent on my income.

Never mind that they might miss me if I died, because it's not about playing catch in front of the house until the streetlight goes on, or getting a helping hand with some math problems at the dining room table, or even a cozy snuggle on a rainy weekend morning.

No, it's all about the Benjamins, Dad. And if you're not man enough to provide them, even after you die, what good are you as a dad anyway?

Oh, and happy Father's Day.

Or whatever.

[originally displayed on . . . if you want to see it in its native habitat, keep refreshing until it comes up]

Subscribe to the Bradstein feed.
Powered by FeedBurner--new and improved!


  1. Ahh, guilt, the gift that keeps on giving.

    You do a fine job with 3B. The only problem I have with your parenting is that you are doing it on the wrong coast, but they you could say the same for me.

  2. Really. We moved here with the understanding that you were close to Washington, so we'd see you more often than when we were in Colorado. What happened?

  3. Anonymous3:52 AM

    TCB on this Fathers Day to you. The King here always thouhjt you were the best Memphis Mafia man to have a kid. Way to Red, not kick Sonny ass out the room. I needs to shoot a TV.

    TCB baby just TCB.

  4. Ahh, what would a holiday be without a little side of guilt and fear? Didn't you take Sociology of Death at UCI: American culture is all about the fear, baby.

    So, instead of the cuddles and the bonding softball moments, you should be out bringing home the bacon, I mean tofu, and worrying about the future! It's your patriotic duty, young man.

  5. Yo, King, I appreciate your support--make sure that 'Cilla's not in the next room over when you open up on the TV. And, although it's allergy season, you might want to ease up on the Claritin martinis. They're making your typing fingers fat.

    Henitsirk: Now I'm afraid that I don't worry enough.

  6. Geez, Papa, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. Honest! :)