What Your Father’s Day Gift Says About Your Relationship With Your Dad

Briefcase: You suffer crippling guilt about dropping out of college in the last week of your senior year after your father re-mortgaged his house to pay your tuition.

Engraved cufflinks: You think marriage is a tool of the patriarchy, but love your dad too much to tell him that he’ll never walk you down the aisle.

Golf tees: You want your father to retire to a life of leisure, but are afraid he might find Youtube and be radicalized by an alt-right blogger.

White noise machine: You were a nightmare child who inflicted permanent psychological damage on your parents who still can’t sleep at night even though you’re forty-five.

Baseball tickets: You and your father share two common interests: hot dogs and not making eye contact.

Necktie: You feel suffocated by your father’s neurotic obsession with you understanding the Zika virus has not totally gone away.

Omaha Steaks: You’re still trying to make up for the fact that you lost your Peewee football championship to your father’s boss’ kid because you were daydreaming about Linda Cardellini and botched the winning field goal.

Concert tickets: You once walked in on your parents mid-coitus when they thought you were at band practice. After 750 hours of family therapy, you can finally look back on it and laugh. Ish.

Brewery tour: You still can’t bring yourself to tell your father about your gluten allergy for fear he’ll call you “a frilly ninny,” which you assume means homosexual, but you never really know with him.

Amazon gift card: You call your father by his first name.

Fitbit: You have a hyper-competitive relationship with your father, who you consider both your greatest inspiration and your biggest rival, a theme which you are incidentally writing a screenplay about.

Squatty Potty: You and your father are experiencing an emotional block.

GPS watch: You used to turn to your dad for direction, but soon realized that all his advice was taken verbatim from a book he keeps in the bathroom called, “God Made Me Do It.”

Baby Bjorn: You are uncomfortable about your dad fathering a child with his very new, very young wife, but are trying to be open-minded about it because you are actually dating his best friend, Roger.

Leather gloves: You recently noticed that your hands suddenly resemble your father’s. This has sent you into an existential crisis. You wonder what else of his will you inherit. For the first time, you feel old. And yet, in some sense, you feel more connected to him than ever. Also, they were on sale at Marshalls.

Seinfeld calendar: You don’t know your dad at all. He hates Seinfeld.