This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

The traffic light changed to yellow, and a moment later, to red. Good. I was still a hundred yards from the intersection, but I lowered my foot onto the brake and allowed my mind to wander. There were no other cars out on the roads this late. Well, judging by the hint of purple-gray dawn in the eastern sky, it was early, not late. 

Jealous Friend’s Wanna Say Hi was playing low enough on my car stereo that I could only hear the thumping bass. I turned it up and did a little dance, shuffling my shoulders and my arms in time to the music. I loved that song. It reminded me of my Son. My hot Son. 

Stylized image of Foot Locker store
interior foot locker” by Consumerist Dot Com is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Son was right. I used to be super uptight. I was a joyless workaholic whose only happiness came during my two weeks off every July. I remember Son telling me that I was too sexy for such a dreary, workaday life, and that all my “hot dadness” was wasted on the corporate world. 

Son was right. After I met him, everything else about my life just seemed so boring, so mundane, so thinky. Thinking made me sad. 

When I told Son how I felt, He told me not to worry. “I’ll take care of you, dad,” He assured me. “I’ll keep you out of trouble so you can go have fun and enjoy your life.” 

I was so grateful for my hot Son. The first thing W/we did was buy dad and Son Jeeps. His was black, and mine was electric yellow. I always kept the top and the doors off mine so I could show off all my “hot dadness.” 

I showed off my “hot dadness” to all of Son’s friends. It quickly became one of my favorite dad duties. Every night after my shift at Foot Locker, I would drive over to one of Son’s friend’s houses and hang out. Sometimes I did chores. Sometimes I gave massages. Sometimes I got down on all fours and became a footstool for hours. I did whatever Son’s friends asked me to do, but no matter what, I was always back home in time to wake Son up at 8 a.m. sharp. 

Funny, I can’t remember going to hang out at the same friend’s house more than once. Weird, huh? Son has a lot of friends. 

A horn honked behind me and jolted me out of my reverie. I turned the stereo all the way up and floored it through the intersection, bopping to the music all the way back home to Son. 

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