Letter to a deadbeat dadBy Wade Kwon
If youâ€™re wondering where your Fatherâ€™s Day card is, stop wondering.
You ainâ€™t gettinâ€™ one. The kids were going to draw something, but they canâ€™t because you ainâ€™t paid no child support and thereâ€™s no money for crayons or pencils or paper.
So suck on it.
You can ignore the court orders all you want from now on. Itâ€™s not worth it to fight on the phone anymore. But you canâ€™t see Hailey or Virgil Jr. no more.
Weâ€™re barely making it as is. The kids ask about you all the time, you and that tramp. What do I tell them? Iâ€™m tired of lying to cover your sorry ass.
So thanks for nothing. Thanks for five years of a worthless marriage. Thanks for running us into debt. Thanks for skipping out on me and the kids. Thanks for showing us how daddy is a two-timing lowlife waste of air.
If you ever show up at this place again, youâ€™ll be sorry, I can promise you that. And unlike you, I keep my word.
I wonâ€™t lie to the kids again or make up stories about how you had car trouble or got tied up at work. Theyâ€™ll know if they donâ€™t already.
Soon, they wonâ€™t cry for you ever again. Their daddyâ€™ll just be some guy like the landlord and the bus driver. Except the landlord and the bus driver show up when theyâ€™re supposed to.
It wonâ€™t be Fatherâ€™s Day around here this year or next year or any other year. Itâ€™ll be just plain Sunday.
Iâ€™d say weâ€™d pray for you, but that would mostly be a lie.
But Iâ€™ll secretly pray for you. To keep away forever.