Dear Dad,
I made you a crown out of wire and hot glue and spray paint. You said I should look into selling them (make more and sell them) at renaissance fairs.
I'll look into it, but I wanna know what you meant by that. Did you mean it as in, "Your skilled and people will buy these things that you like to make" or "You're good at making these and you don't have a job, so do something to start making money." Mom says it wasn't the latter, but...
Anyways, I'm nineteen now, yay. I still don't feel like an adult and alcohol is gross. I got one drink- I think it was juice mixed with alcohol- when Mom and Jessi and our Aunt took me out to a bar. I don't like juice to begin with, but this was worse.. blegh..
I don't care if Jessi calls me pathetic for not wanting to drink. I don't want to and it's my choice.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Dad,
Narrativa generaleA collection of letters that a daughter wrote to her father of everything that she wishes she could say to him. She will, eventually... but until then? She'll keep writing until she works up the courage to tell him. [The chapters for this story are...
