Father's Day By Sean Ripple www.Flickr.com/photos/flatlife I was born on the same day as my Father. The sense that this caused some tension between us, though loaded with touchy feely Freudian rhetoric, is fully valid. For instance, consider that starting with my sixth birthday, I began receiving a note from my father via mail on or around my birthday that read, "The fact that your birthday falls on my special day is a nuisance. See what you can do about it. Love (?), Pop" Being young and incapable of reading the word nuisance, let alone understand it, I wasn't really bothered by the communication. However, once capable of understanding, I was full-blown crushed. Starting around 14 I began communicating back, though, I didn't use words. Mine was the let the air out of his Buick's tires and throw a bunch of nails at the end of the driveway sort of sentiment. Or the, oops I didn't mean to handcuff your hand to the bedpost and throw away the key while you were sleeping statement. I'm sure my mother was a bit confused as to why her husband and son carried on in the way that they did, but she was more concerned with… honestly I don't know what she was concerned with, but it surely wasn't us… she left us to sort out our own troubles. My father being one who could take it just as much as he could dish it, never really got angry with me and my little retaliations. Yet, the notes continued. From 83' on, he just sent me a Xerox copy of the note from '82. He didn't even bother to whiteout 1982. When I moved out at 18, the notes stopped. I received a note from my dad in the mail today, June 16th, the Saturday before our birthdays. The note reads, "You're my boy."