Harry Chapin said it better

Dear Dad,

Happy Father's Day! Even though you will probably spend the morning at the Church of Work and the afternoon renovating the master bathroom, I know you'll end the day with a few beers and a couple of puns in front of the U.S. Open. Finish strong.

Even though we're not really big on nostalgia, I thought I'd share a story with you. It's about a girl who walked home from first grade in the middle of the day because she resented being punished by the teacher. Undaunted, her dad volunteered to coach tee ball.

Then during fourth-grade recess, the girl nearly knocked out Chris Browder's front teeth with a rock. Unfazed, her dad signed them up for Indian Princesses.

In seventh grade, tooth-braced and bespectacled, she snuck out and rode the bus to the mall to see Mystic Pizza. Pissed, the dad grounded the girl for a month. But he still took her on the annual ski trip.

When the girl was sixteen, she crashed the Oldsmobile into a pole in the grocery store parking lot. Who knew five miles per hour could be so damaging? The dad still took her driving (with a five iron and a bucket of balls) at Smiley's on Sunday evenings.

Just a month before high school graduation, the girl was suspended for three days for violating alcohol policy at the spring dance. The dad happily sent her off to college. But he came to visit. And bought drinks.

After college the girl moved far away. The dad sent cards, telephoned and bankrolled a couple of apartment security deposits. But she never came back. Except for holidays, of course, but it wasn't the same.

Years later, she got married, bought a house, had a couple of kids. And she forgot to send her dad a Father's Day card. The end.

Dad, I know what you're thinking, and I totally agree: Blame the parents.