A Gift for My Dad

Many summers ago, my best friend Kristen invited me to spend a week at the beach with her family.

As a 10 year old whose own parents’ idea of vacation was camping at the state park, I immediately accepted.
The thoughtful child I was, throughout the week I bought maybe a bag of taffy and some post cards for myself, but mainly spent my meager savings for souvenirs for my mom, sister, and brother.

My dad is a tough nut to crack. He never wants anything, he never needs anything. So finding him a souvenir was more of a challenge.

Fortunately, on one of our last nights, we went to the arcade. Kristen and I amassed a ton of tickets from skeeball and I set my sights on the prize case.

“What can I get Dad?” I thought. “What would show him that I was thinking of him and that I love him?” BEHOLD, a mini-trophy! Perfect. I showed it to Kristen’s parents, proud that I had finally found a gift worthy of my dad.

Years later, when I was a junior or senior in high school, I stumbled across it and experienced sheer horror when I read the front:
“World’s Best Lover”

I tried to remember back to the day I picked it out of the case and vaguely remembered thinking, “I love Dad, this will show him how much I love him.” And then I remembered the blank, puzzled looks of Kristen’s parents when I showed them the gift I picked out for my dad.

On one hand, it’s still really disturbing.

On the other hand, thanks to him I exist. So yeah, maybe he does deserve the trophy.