Rock Star had a birthday recently. My mom, the mobster, and I all went down to Muncie to help her celebrate. We went to a really cute winery right there in the city, not far at all from her house. Afterwards we went to a hibachi grill for dinner.
On the car ride over to the winery she told us all that her father had messaged her on Facebook.
Happy Birthday! I am doing well. So proud of you. Wow- 22!
She said it took her a few moments to wrap her mind around what had transpired. He made her birthday all about him. Hey, happy birthday, kid! By the way, I am doing great. Can I tell you all about it?
Apparently, this is the year he decided to cut off birthday gifts. Nothing sent to her. Just well wishes and a notification that he was doing well. Because isn’t that always your first thought on your birthday? I wonder how everyone else in my life is doing. Me? Oh, I’m just celebrating a birthday. Comes along every year! Let’s talk about you!
I am ashamed that I procreated with this man. Even more ashamed that I actually thought he was going to be a great dad.
Update: This took place June 3rd. I just saw Rock Star. Her dad still has not sent her a birthday gift. She thinks he’s punishing her for not immediately telling him that of course he would get an invitation to her graduation, and she’s pissed.