In 2011, if you know for sure who your daddy is, you're apparently ahead of the game.
This can be especially challenging if your mom hangs out with or near, politicians. Then, your suspicion must be confirmed through DNA tests, TMZ reporters and guessing who you look like. And not usually in that order.
TMZ has become so accurate of late, that the only thing I can think of is that maybe they own and operate those fun/shady hotels/motels where you can rent rooms by the hour. All they have to do is keep the security cameras rolling and it's like a spider web, catching prey and constantly feeding it back to their news offices. I've heard that they run adult films in those establishments and it's long been my theory that the couple in room 6 might very well be the featured film in room 4. Just saying.
So, you know who your father is. What exactly does Who's Your Daddy actually mean? According to Wikipedia, "It is commonly used as a boastful claim of dominance over the intended listener." Ask.com says, "..that's right, I did that for you. Show appreciation."
We've all heard it used after someone bests us. Is that supposed to mean that Father knows/does/is best? Still? Really? Only if your name is Kitten or Bud.
I can understand why Robert Young knew best. His Stepford Wife was deferential and cleaned the house wearing pearls, a dress and heels. Sadly, many people really bought into that and tried unsuccessfully to replicate that mythical family. I know that when I tried it as a young newlywed, I kept tripping over the vacuum cord in my stilettos. And yes, Soft Scrub will stain your dress. I probably shouldn't have worn silk.
So, if we are still using Who's Your Daddy, to convey dominance, then what's changed since the 1950's?
Apparently, not as much as you'd think. Except, now when men fantasize about their wives cleaning the house, they still envision them wearing heels, but it's usually imagined with a French maid's uniform. And it's probably not their wife. Again, just saying.
I get that Who's Your Mommy? does not have the same cache. In fact, it sounds like an insult. Who's Your Mommy is more like a taunt. Like if you wore a ridiculous outfit – say, a French maid's uniform, even if it were only once on Valentine's Day and you never told any of your friends and there were positively no photos of this to post on Facebook – did something embarrassing like tripping over the vacuum cord in your highest heels or if you didn't know something that you should know like who Bud and Kitten are. Then Who's Your Mommy? could seem like an appropriate barb.
How is that fair? It's not.
Why is it that if someone does something considered heinous, they are coarsely referred to as a "Muther"? Even men are subject to this. Why then, isn't there such a thing as a Futher?
How is that fair? It's not.
There are many, many remarkable men out there. My dad – at least I think he's my dad; I'm pretty sure he's my dad; I've been calling him dad for as long as I can remember; I really look a lot like him but I guess I should call TMZ – who deserve a most hearty and sincere, Happy Father's Day/congratulations on surviving your children, today.
My dad has been there for me always. And though there were/are plenty of times it was pretty attractive to run away, he has unquestioningly stepped up to the plate for me, even though I didn't always/usually/hardly ever deserve it, and I didn't have to ask.
Some might say that I put him through the wringer. But who cares what they say? Right dad?
Then, there are those men who don't deserve to be dads. They don't step up to the plate, they run while the getting is good and they don't always acknowledge their offspring. These are not dads. Giving life does not make you a dad. Raising a child makes you a dad. Teaching by example makes you a dad. Being a strong role model makes you a dad. Giving unconditional love makes you a dad. I think these men are Futhers.
To my dad, doppelganger and all around superhero, thank you for letting me eat Oreos on a tray table with you after my bedtime, when mom went out. Thank you for eventually – and still – talking to me after I jumped out of my second floor window when I was grounded. Thank you for still being able to smile – eventually – even after my third car accident, and thank you for all that you have done that you think I didn't notice. I did and I do.
Interestingly, Fathers can have Futhers, and Futhers can have Fathers.
So today, I wish all of the men either a Happy Father's Day or a Happy Futher's Day. You know who you are.
This can be especially challenging if your mom hangs out with or near, politicians. Then, your suspicion must be confirmed through DNA tests, TMZ reporters and guessing who you look like. And not usually in that order.
TMZ has become so accurate of late, that the only thing I can think of is that maybe they own and operate those fun/shady hotels/motels where you can rent rooms by the hour. All they have to do is keep the security cameras rolling and it's like a spider web, catching prey and constantly feeding it back to their news offices. I've heard that they run adult films in those establishments and it's long been my theory that the couple in room 6 might very well be the featured film in room 4. Just saying.
So, you know who your father is. What exactly does Who's Your Daddy actually mean? According to Wikipedia, "It is commonly used as a boastful claim of dominance over the intended listener." Ask.com says, "..that's right, I did that for you. Show appreciation."
We've all heard it used after someone bests us. Is that supposed to mean that Father knows/does/is best? Still? Really? Only if your name is Kitten or Bud.
I can understand why Robert Young knew best. His Stepford Wife was deferential and cleaned the house wearing pearls, a dress and heels. Sadly, many people really bought into that and tried unsuccessfully to replicate that mythical family. I know that when I tried it as a young newlywed, I kept tripping over the vacuum cord in my stilettos. And yes, Soft Scrub will stain your dress. I probably shouldn't have worn silk.
So, if we are still using Who's Your Daddy, to convey dominance, then what's changed since the 1950's?
Apparently, not as much as you'd think. Except, now when men fantasize about their wives cleaning the house, they still envision them wearing heels, but it's usually imagined with a French maid's uniform. And it's probably not their wife. Again, just saying.
I get that Who's Your Mommy? does not have the same cache. In fact, it sounds like an insult. Who's Your Mommy is more like a taunt. Like if you wore a ridiculous outfit – say, a French maid's uniform, even if it were only once on Valentine's Day and you never told any of your friends and there were positively no photos of this to post on Facebook – did something embarrassing like tripping over the vacuum cord in your highest heels or if you didn't know something that you should know like who Bud and Kitten are. Then Who's Your Mommy? could seem like an appropriate barb.
How is that fair? It's not.
Why is it that if someone does something considered heinous, they are coarsely referred to as a "Muther"? Even men are subject to this. Why then, isn't there such a thing as a Futher?
How is that fair? It's not.
There are many, many remarkable men out there. My dad – at least I think he's my dad; I'm pretty sure he's my dad; I've been calling him dad for as long as I can remember; I really look a lot like him but I guess I should call TMZ – who deserve a most hearty and sincere, Happy Father's Day/congratulations on surviving your children, today.
My dad has been there for me always. And though there were/are plenty of times it was pretty attractive to run away, he has unquestioningly stepped up to the plate for me, even though I didn't always/usually/hardly ever deserve it, and I didn't have to ask.
Some might say that I put him through the wringer. But who cares what they say? Right dad?
Then, there are those men who don't deserve to be dads. They don't step up to the plate, they run while the getting is good and they don't always acknowledge their offspring. These are not dads. Giving life does not make you a dad. Raising a child makes you a dad. Teaching by example makes you a dad. Being a strong role model makes you a dad. Giving unconditional love makes you a dad. I think these men are Futhers.
To my dad, doppelganger and all around superhero, thank you for letting me eat Oreos on a tray table with you after my bedtime, when mom went out. Thank you for eventually – and still – talking to me after I jumped out of my second floor window when I was grounded. Thank you for still being able to smile – eventually – even after my third car accident, and thank you for all that you have done that you think I didn't notice. I did and I do.
Interestingly, Fathers can have Futhers, and Futhers can have Fathers.
So today, I wish all of the men either a Happy Father's Day or a Happy Futher's Day. You know who you are.