Tag: dad/Son (Page 5 of 6)

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.

My police buddies started calling me fat. I outgrew three sizes of uniforms and ultimately couldn’t complete the obstacle course in the required time. First warning, second warning, final warning—I just couldn’t seem to drop the excess weight and get back into shape for my job. Nineteen years on the force, only one year away from retirement, and I got canned. Weirdly enough, losing my job wasn’t the scariest part. I was more scared about how my Son would take the news. 

He was so understanding. “Don’t worry, Dad,” He said. “I’ll find you a job in no time.” Then He put His arms around my belly and pulled me into a tight bear hug. Every concern I had melted away. Six months ago, back when my Son was just my boyfriend, He told me that when I became His dad, I’d never have to worry about anything ever again. 

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.

I still remember my old life. Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but that’s the way my Son wants it to be. He likes knowing that all my memories and intelligence are trapped inside this big, dumb body, wanting to get out but unable to. Every morning when I wake up before dawn and lay out His clothes for the day, I stop and think to myself, “What would I be doing right now if I’d never met Him?” 

I was a physicist, for Pete’s sake, tenured faculty at my university, just hitting my stride,  career wise. Another 10 or so years on this trajectory and I’d have earned myself a long, comfortable retirement. 

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.

I thought it was weird when my boyfriend told me I should switch back from contacts to glasses. We’d been dating for a few months, and he made little recommendations like that all the time. I just chalked it up to generational differences. I’d never dated a guy young enough to be my son before, and I didn’t think much of it. When he brought home a pair of glasses for me to try on, I just went along with it. Hey, if it’s what the young people are wearing these days, might as well make the boyfriend happy, right? 

I can’t remember clearly when things started to change. I started getting… I don’t know, confused, I guess? Making mistakes at work, losing my way on the drive home. My boyfriend was so understanding. He said my glasses probably just needed a stronger prescription. He got me another pair. And then another. And another. I stopped wearing contacts altogether. Wearing my boyfriend’s glasses made me feel happy. Hip. Cool. Young. 

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.

I was in the middle of hanging pictures when I got the text message from Sir. 

Selfie. Now. 

I had to drop everything and comply right away. Sir’s nightly meditation playlists made sure of that. I tried to at least get the pictures I was hanging in the background. I’d been at them all morning. Ever since Sir moved in, He’s been changing everything about my house, from the colors of the walls to which rooms I am allowed to enter to where I sleep.