And unless my dad learns how to turn on a computer, discover the internet, take a Google tutorial and miraculously find this blog, he will never, ever see it.
That being said, happy belated Father's Day, Dad.
I'm lucky to the oldest and potentially least-accomplished child of a greatly accomplished scholar, professor, humanitarian and all around amazing human being.
When I'm feeling thoughtful, I will ocassionally reflect on the gifts my parents have bestowed on their children... genetically (skin that burns under 60-watt light bulbs and a veritable chin lottery, of which I am the loser), materially (hubcaps, $5 Old Navy gift cards), intellectually and so on.
When it comes to what my dad has passed on, a great deal of it is fairly obvious, at least to me. My sister is a major fan of helping other people. She also likes Spanish, joining my dad as the only other fluent family member. All three of my siblings are incredibly intelligent, some are obvious leaders. Two of them have lived or will soon live in Central and South America, respectively. My brothers are good rugby players. I, on the other hand, waffle on my feelings toward mankind and will hesitate to offer anyone any sort of assistance unless I get something in return, like peanuts or back rubs. I can ask where the bathroom is in Spanish, and if I said it out loud, you would probably tell me that I'm actually telling you I have hepatitis. I'm the B student to my family's A+ average. All of my recurring nightmares have to do with playing touch football in grade school and breaking my glasses.
I imagine I will figure out my gift one of these days, but in the meantime I will wear my mediocrity with pride and view my last name as sufficient evidence of my good fortune.
Anyway, Dad, if you took all of the aforementioned steps and found this, check your email - I sent you an e-card. And I love you.