Aw crap, did you guys know next Sunday is freaking FATHER’S DAY?!?!?! I myself would have completely forgotten if it weren’t for the fact that my wife has asked me EVERY STINKING DAY what I would like on ‘my special day’ for the past two weeks. And in honor of the Constitution of the Guy Thing, I responded as is expected: “Eh, I don’t really care.” 


The thing is, I actually don’t.

For starters, my son and daughter are 3 years and 11 weeks, respectively. So I don’t think either one is going to come up with something that’ll knock my socks off. Hell, my son thinks Daddy wants a new Avengers action figure, which I do, but not if he’s gonna try stealing it (I’m onto his plan.) And my daughter’s suggestion is spit bubbles, which I can either make myself or borrow from her own unlimited source available any day of the week (apparently.) 

No, this year’s Father’s Day gift is most likely going to be some crappy Donald Duck picture my son will do a second-rate job of coloring in with the wrong crayon scheme from the daycare where I shell out $600 a month for such inspired work. Anything else will be purchased by my wife, with money, I might add, from our joint bank account that I could use for other, more beer-centric purposes.

But when I put a little more thought into it, I guess I actually do care what I get for Father’s Day. I’m by no particular means ‘the man who has everything,’ but I am a creature of habit, much like every other dad I know. I have a few things I’m a bit passionate about, not the least of which is drinking good coffee. That means I have a favorite type of bean (although it has a tendency to change every time my senses are overwhelmed with a bold, untried roast.) And, more importantly, I have a favorite mug. My particular favorite is one I inherited from my dearly-departed dad, a Marvel Comics cup littered with pictures of Spiderman and the Hulk. It’s really nothing special; it’ll probably only fit about 10 ounces, and there’s no cigar lighter, donut hook, or visage of a half-naked lady anywhere. But I like the cup, and I will throw out the stinkeye with a fury of a thousand suns to anyone who dares use it in my presence (looking at YOU, wife!) And not to be too sappy, but I’ll admit I miss my Dad, and drinking from his coffee mug lets me remember the good times with him.

That being said, I could TOTALLY use another favorite mug. Just because I have a preferred one doesn’t mean I want to wash the stupid thing every day. And while ten ounces is no big deal when I’m a scant few feet from the coffee pot in my kitchen, when I’m at work or out in the backyard contemplating whether I should mow or if it can wait until next weekend (hint: it technically always can,) I would prefer my coffee mug hold a bit more go-go juice. And last but certainly not least, while I may be a fan of Marvel Comics I would much prefer something slightly more adult-themed, like a funny saying such as World’s Greatish Dad, or Kate Upton arching her back. I’m almost positive I’m not the only dad who feels this way.

So this year, Mom, buy your dumb husband something he always needs but never realizes: a new favorite coffee mug.

Or beer. Beer’s nice, too.
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