Fathers Day: Uncle Bobbys Nitty-Gritty Guide to Surviving the Clearance Aisle Holiday

Dear Uncle Bobby, I was walking through a store this week and saw three full aisles of red-white-and-blue fireworks... and a sad endcap with two busted grill brushes and a box of “#1 Dad” mugs. Why does Father’s Day feel like an afterthought?

Feeling Shortchanged on Aisle 4,,
Shortchanged and Salted

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Oh, Shortchanged, bless your disappointed little heart and your discount brisket. Welcome to the Clearance Holiday. See, Father’s Day isn’t a celebration. It’s a participation trophy for mowing the lawn and not dying.

Lets compare:

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• Mother’s Day? Brunch reservations. Spa packages. Emotional Facebook essays.
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• Father’s Day? A new pair of socks and a pat on the back so hard it dislodges a kidney.

The marketing doesn’t even try anymore.

“Here, Dad — have a wrench.”

“Want to grill for your own party?”

“Hope you like khaki cargo shorts, because that’s all we bought!”

“Get Dad what he really wants this year… a power washer and a folding chair with a cup holder!”

Oh yes, nothing says love like the suggestion I clean the driveway and sit alone with a lukewarm beer.

Uncle Bobby’s advice? Don’t wait for anyone else to make it special. Buy yourself the expensive steak.

Turn your phone off. And when someone asks what you want to do for Father’s Day, just say: “I want to be left the hell alone with the remote and zero small talk.”

Because Father’s Day isn’t about recognition. It’s about quiet defiance. It’s about owning your own damn holiday in cargo shorts and unapologetic silence. And if they really love you? They’ll give you a nap and not ask for a single damn thing until Monday.

You earned it, Dad. Now light that grill like a Viking funeral and let the meat do the talking.

– Uncle Bobby