Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you’re writing to me. Oh, yes, HIS birthday. It was so difficult buying him a present. No matter what I bought him, he would be angry and say I didn’t put enough thought into it. He’d even ask me how long ago I bought the present because he wanted to know how little time I spent on him. My father didn’t buy me presents either, but he would sign the card my mother gave him. Once in awhile he would write his own card or poem to me, but it would be filled with all his disappointments about me. He even submitted some of them to the L.A. Times! He would title them like “Lamenting the Trials and Tribulations of Fatherhood.” You know, that would be a good story heading for me :)