A Crappy Birthday Card, from the Happiest 4 Year Old

My dad and I have this relationship centered around food. It's like a sliding scale of emotional binge eating, to simply spending time together. My dad and I haven’t had a perfect relationship, but somehow food seems to bring us closer.

I’m my dad’s only child. I have the fondest memories with him. I remember when he had me on his birthday weekend. My mom dropped me off late as usual. My dad was patiently waiting for me at the top of staircase above his apartment. I was 4 years old. I remember my mom telling me to make sure my dad wraps my hair and give him his birthday card before I go to sleep.

We turn into the apartments. Her headlights were so bright that it reflected off the sign in front of the apartments. I knew we were here. I was so excited I took my seat belt off and jumped out of my car seat, eagerly looking out the window for my dad.

There he was in a baggy white tee shirt with a hole in the left shoulder. With blue basketball short with socks and sandals. It was about 10 PM and thankfully he had weekends off. I knew we would be up all night. We walked down the stairs into his apartment. It was a 1 bedroom, 1 bath with a walk in closet on the first floor. We took off our shoes at the door. He took my bag and shut the door, locking it while he said, “Gotta protect my baby” in a mocking baby voice.

He was technically the cool parent. He had a PlayStation and other consoles. He bought a PC so I could play computer games and watch anime; while he was finishing paperwork.

So you know I thought he was the coolest dad ever. We had the Dino egg candy oatmeal for dinner. (You know, the kind before they put starch all over the candy?) The good stuff. I would sometimes get the packets before he put the water in and sneak a couple pieces before he noticed. (He noticed) I would sit and watch Sailor Moon in awe while he was playing an RPG game on PC next to the TV with headphones on, but the right slightly ajar so he could hear me. Just in case, I was kind of a clumsy kid.

The clock struck midnight and my dad was hungry again he asked me if I want some of his “famous beef stew meat ramen.” I nodded excessively with happiness he knows how much I loved ramen. As he was cooking, I ran into the room and opened up my book bag and took out my dad’s card. I was so proud myself for making this crappy card out of red and white construction paper, glue, and glitter. So you know it was a bit of a mess.

My attempt at being sneaky was crawling under the bar area that cut off the kitchen from the living room, even though the bar was pretty high up and I was barely 3 feet tall.

I snuck my head around the corner like a curious cat, with a smile so wide you would assume I was the Cheshire cat possessing a toddler’s body. The ramen was almost ready and the smell of beef mixed with oriental Ramen filled the apartment. He stopped, looked at me, then lowered the flame to avoid it bubbling over.

He look at me with a grin on his face.

“Is this for me?” he said in a soft, happy voice.

I looked at him overjoyed and exclaimed, “I made it, I hope you like it Daddy! Happy Birthday from me!” He read what he could from my chicken scratch handwriting. He hugged me and picked me up and told me he loved me so much. That he couldn’t have asked for a better daughter. To this day he has the card. And I spend every birthday with him. I love you, Dad. Here’s to more birthdays to come.

Sincerely Yours, Coco.