Letters from Bob: Prom
Day two and you’re coming back for more “worst dad” stories. I appreciate the comments, but many of you respond with empathy and that isn’t really what I’m after. I’ve lived this (or at least I did) and finally decided a couple years ago that it was over.
My father at one time was a very respectable man and had good qualities. These posts are from my past. I’ve moved on. This is my way of dealing with memories I wish I didn’t have, but the reality is they happened. I try to find the humor in it. My challenge to you is the same.
E,
Just a quick note to let you know that Brenda and I did not appreciate you ignoring us Saturday. We didn’t tell you we were coming because I’m your father d*mn it! I don’t have to. Why is it so wrong for us to be waiting at the restaurant on your prom night to eat and take pictures with your friends? Just because your mother and I are divorced doesn’t mean I lost my rights to be part of your life. I do pay a weekly child support amount that helps pay for things like prom dresses!
Dad
For those of you trying to keep up, by my junior year in high school Louise was gone and Brenda had entered the picture as the significant other. My father was angry that I didn’t invite him to our house to see me dressed up for prom. He decided to be at the restaurant when my date and I arrived with friends. No kidding. There they were standing outside with two freaking camera’s. I tried to be cordial, but when I found out they made reservations for a table right next to ours, I admit I lost it.
HOW EMBARRASSING! {Do you think I told him where we were eating on my senior prom? Hell no!}
My name is Emily. I’m 30 years old. I have often been told that I ask a lot of questions, but I think I have more to say than ask.
Ah! How embarassing!
So I can can the empathy? Because that? That letter is freaking hysterical. I cannot believe that he actually made a reservation right next to you.
Louise. Brenda. I’m hoping for a Polly tomorrow.
LMAO! Oh my god I think I almost peed my pants….
Disappointing, really. No more cursing than a church card? I expected more from Bob.
However, in hindsight you got off easy. Something tells me - if it had occurred to him as a possibility - he would have arranged to be a parent chaperone at the actual event. Now THAT would have made for a fun story!
Well, day-um. I hope he at least paid for your dinner.
Canape- yes, I don’t post these for sympathy. I know so many people have way worse stories to tell of abuse & neglect and many other things….so mine is humorous in comparison.
SciFi Dad- Just hang on to your seat because the best is yet to come!!!
Mrs. Chicky- HA! He barely paid that child support he was talking about. Actually, I don’t think they really ate….they had a drink and basically took pictures the entire time of our “group” and tried to make small talk with my friends.
Oh my lord!! That is so embarrassing!!! My favourite thing about Bob’s letters is that he wrote to you as if either a) you were adult who had wronged him or b) he himself was in junior high (or younger!). I would have been so tempted to send him a note back saying ‘Just a quick note to say I don’t give a shit’. Guess that would be stooping though…
Is it wrong that I’m laughing?
I have an in-law I’d like to introduce to your charming father. The’d hit it off great due to their mutual life philosophy - it’s all about ME!
After this one is layered with the one from yesterday, I’m certain he means the one person he cares about is himself;>
I might be struggling with this contest afterall…I haven’t found humor in my worst dad moments yet.
I’m totally cracking up!
I will say one good thing about Bob. Now you totally know how to embarrass the hell out of your own kid when he goes to prom. In fact, you could hold that threat over his head his entire high school career. But also tell him that you’ll be wearing a tutu.
[…] heard. Loud and clear. It was Christmas of my senior year of high school (only 7 months after the Prom Episode). My older Mercury Topaz had a radio but no cassette player and that is what I got from my father […]