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.

Son, I’m back from the barber shop. I asked them to dye my beard gray, just like You said. I think it turned out pretty nice, but I know my opinion doesn’t matter. What do You think of the dye job, Son? 

Not gray enough? Are You sure, Son? Looks pretty gray to me. I look plenty older than You now. No one would suspect that W/we’re only nine years apart. 

Older, Son? You want me to go older? How much older? Erm, with all due respect, Son, I think I easily look 20 years Your senior. Definitely Your bearded old man, Son. Of course I am more than happy to do anything that pleases You, Son, but what more can I do to look older? 

MPB? What is MPB, Son? Oh. You want me to get my head shaved into one of those horseshoe-looking bald pates. Of course, Son, whatever you say. I’m just a bit surprised, is all. 

No, God no, Son. I’m not trying to backtalk You. I’m Your dad, and a dad’s place is to obey his handsome, powerful Son. Whatever You want me to do, Son, I’ll do it. I’ll shave my head to look like I have MPB for You, Son. 

Of course, I’ll go up to my room and listen to Your programming right away, Son. Thank You for controlling your submissive old man. 

Older. Older. Must look older. Must act older. Must be older for Son. Must be Son’s handsome, obedient dad. Must be older for Son. Must be older for Son. Must be older for Son. 

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