r/WritingPrompts • u/Prowlerbaseball • Jun 11 '17
Writing Prompt [WP] All of the "#1 Dad" mugs in the world change to show the actual ranking of Dads suddenly.
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u/SirExampleGiven Sep 19 '24 edited Sep 19 '24
The Global Dad Rank. (I got bored, and this WP caught my eye, so here we go!)
It was just an ordinary Sunday morning when the world changed.
Paul woke up at around 8 in the morning, groggily walking to the kitchen to make his daily mug of coffee. He knew he wouldn’t last the first half of the day if he didn’t get a sip.
His “#1 Dad” mug was waiting for him—a Father’s Day gift from his kids, something he cherished more than he ever admitted aloud, resting patiently on the countertop upside-down, from yesterday’s wash. Grabbing it slowly, he placed it under his coffee machine, before almost failing to press the big silver button entirely. As the coffee dripped down, he rubbed his eyes, blinking into the sudden sun. Yawning, he looked down at his mug, checking if the coffee had finished pouring. It poured slower than usual, but that was about to be the least of his concerns.
“Damn, I gotta get this thing fix- What.”
The “#1” label wasn’t there. Well, it was, just not in the way he expected.
He blinked, rubbing his eyes again, staring harder at the mug. Instead of the proud and bold “#1,” his mug now read “#832,176.”
“What..?” He leaned in closer, squinting his eyes to look at the print again. 8, 3, 2, 1, 6, 7. “Eight hundred and thirty two thousand, one hundred and sixty seven.” He read aloud, still trying hard not to believe it. Was this some sort of prank? Had his kids swapped the mug while he was sleeping? He checked the handle—same chip from when he’d dropped it two years ago. Same wear on the lettering from so many dishwashing cycles. No, this was definitely his mug.
Across town, Fredrick sat in his messy kitchen, savouring the rare moment of peace and silence, which was abruptly interrupted by the sound of his two boys arguing over breakfast in the next room, but, over the years, he’d learnt to tune it out. His “#1 Dad” mug sat across from him, the only other constant in his life, aside from his strained relationship with his kids.
Filled almost to the brim with room temperature coffee from last night, he took a sip, setting it down as he opened his laptop, preparing to start working, before he froze.
Instead of the familiar, albeit false “#1” title, the mug now displayed something completely unexpected, but true nonetheless.
“#1,288,271.”
Fredrick stared at it, his mind scrambling to make sense of the numbers. Was it even possible to print THAT many numbers on a mug? His hands began to tremble slightly as he set the mug down with a soft clink.
“No way,” he whispered. Was this some sort of cruel joke? He half-expected one of the boys to burst out laughing from the other room, confessing to some elaborate prank, but all he heard was more bickering.
At the same time, Gregory was sitting on his couch, sipping his morning brew while scrolling through the day’s headlines. His “#1 Dad” mug was in his hand, the same one his daughter, Maddie, had bought for him when she was six. He glanced down at it absentmindedly and chuckled to himself. Still there. “#1 Dad.”
He took another sip, feeling a sense of indescribable pride.
“You’ve still got it, old man.” He whispered to himself proudly.
Just then, Maddie walked into the living room, stretching as she yawned, greeting him with a smile.
“Morning, Dad. Still number one, I see?”
“Of course,” Gregory replied, grinning. “Like that was ever in question.”
By lunchtime, the internet was ablaze. What had started as a few confused social media posts snowballed into global chaos. Dads all over the world were checking their mugs and discovering new, sometimes horrifying numbers. News outlets ran non-stop coverage, interviewing bewildered fathers and experts alike. Conspiracy theories sprang up, ranging from glitches in the simulation to divine judgment.
Paul, who still couldn’t believe his “#832,176,” trying to find some sense of reassurance, scrolled through comments online:
“Mine says #48,719! What the hell is going on?”
“I’m #2,589. Should I be happy or worried?”
“Can someone explain why my mug just says #7?”
Paul sighed, feeling an odd sense of solidarity with the other dads. At least he wasn’t the only one. But as he read on, he noticed something strange: some dads’ numbers seemed to be incredibly low, while others... well, like Fredrick, they seemed to be in the hundreds of thousands or even millions.
He spent the rest of the morning obsessively refreshing his ranking, hoping the number would change, but it stubbornly stayed at “#1,288,271.” He couldn’t shake the growing unease in his chest. Was this number supposed to mean something? Was he really that far behind as a dad? His thoughts spiraled as his boys continued to ignore him, lost in their games.
Back in Gregory’s house, things were calm. His day was normal. The “#1 Dad” status on his mug never wavered, and he never questioned it. If the world was in chaos, it didn’t reach him. Maddie kept cracking jokes, laughing every time she passed by him and the mug. She never let on if she noticed anything odd.
By evening, the chaos seemed to die down as dads across the world began to accept the bizarre rankings—or at least, started pretending not to care. But questions lingered: Who decided these rankings? Could they change? And… could they ever be fixed?
For Paul and Fredrick, the day ended with a sense of unease. For Gregory, though, it was just another day—another day as the world’s “#1 Dad.”
—————————
If you got to the end of this, thanks for letting me waste your time, I guess. But, seriously though, thanks for reading this whole thing. This is my second ever Reddit post. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.
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u/Few_Dingo297 Jun 15 '24
It was a morning like any other. I woke up to the sun beginning to peak in through the shutters of the window. I glanced over to see my still sleeping wife as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. I got out of bed slowly and quietly, so as not to disturb her peaceful slumber; she needed it after a long week of homeschooling our two children.
I went through my normal morning routine, going into the bathroom to wash my face and put in my contacts, and headed to the kitchen to start on a good old cup of joe.
As I opened the blinds of the window above the sink, the warmth of the dawn filled the room, lighting up my little coffee corner on the counter. I was used to your typical Mr. Coffee pot brew, but had recently been experimenting with what my hip friends called a “pour-over”. I set my kettle on the stove to boil some water and ground my beans, getting the V60 out and setting the filter in place. Now to find the perfect mug.
The choices were many, I opened the cupboard to an assortment of stoneware, ceramic and even metal mugs, but had one in mind already. It had been a father’s day gift from my two little boys the year before, and was one of my most treasured possessions. I pushed aside a few of the mugs to look for it, to no avail. “Where did I put it?” I thought to myself, before remembering that I had in fact used it the day before, and realized that it was likely still in the dishwasher. I pulled out the top rack to find it sitting right there; time to make that morning dose of caffeine. I held it up triumphantly, the object proving my fatherly greatness and setting me above all the others out there: my #1 Dad mug. Or so I thought.
As I pulled the mug out of the dishwasher, the number caught my eye, the one was still there, but something was off; it was followed by a five, and a two, and a three, and a six, and another five! #152365 Dad?!? There was no way. First of all, how could the number have changed overnight? Was this some sort of prank my wife and kids were playing on me? But more importantly, there was no way that a hundred and fifty two thousand three hundred and sixty four men were better fathers than me; I was insulted. I realize that I have my imperfections, number one may be a bit of a stretch, but I must have been at least in the top hundred, the top thousand, right? I thought back to my kiddos, to the time I taught them to play catch, to giving them piggy-back rides when they were tired, to the many bad dad jokes I told (do “bad” dad jokes decrease your ranking? Or increase it? That was something I needed to find out), and to the many other aspects of fatherhood. One hundred and fifty thousand was simply inconceivable.
As I wondered in disgust at how I could have been beaten by so many dads, I suddenly thought about my neighbor Darryl. I had seen the same mug in his sink while at their house for a barbecue the previous week. There was no way he could have gotten a higher rank than me. I mowed the lawn more frequently and meticulously than he ever did, I could flip burgers twice as high and grill them to perfection to boot. I cheered far louder at my sons’ baseball games. There was absolutely no way. I turned off the stove (like a responsible father I might add. One point to me), and rushed out of the house, still in my pajamas, stopped to pick up the newspaper from the yard (another point to me), and rushed next door. As I was about to knock, the door opened to Darryl, a middle-aged, mustachioed man who opened with “Gosh Jim, can’t you see the sign says ‘no solicitors’?”, pausing to chuckle at his own joke, and continued “I suppose your mug changed too huh? Mine says #152364, how about yours?”
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u/Mister-Grogg Feb 12 '23
The day started like any other, until the first "#1 Dad" mug in the world changed. And then another, and another. Soon, every mug, t-shirt, and greeting card emblazoned with those three words had transformed into something different, something more honest.
The mugs that once boasted "World's Best Dad" now displayed the actual ranking of each father. Some were lucky enough to have earned the top spot, their mugs now declaring them "#1 Dad" in big, bold letters. Others, however, were not so fortunate. Some saw their rankings drop from first to second or third. Others plummeted all the way down to the bottom of the list, their mugs mocking them with a pitiful "Last Place Dad" label.
The world was in chaos as fathers everywhere grappled with their new rankings. Some took to social media to gloat about their newfound status as the "#1 Dad," while others tried to hide their shame at being demoted. There were even a few who protested the change, insisting that they deserved the top spot despite what their mugs now said.
But as the dust settled and everyone got used to the new reality, something interesting began to happen. Fathers who had never before taken an interest in their kids' lives suddenly started showing up to games, recitals, and parent-teacher conferences. They spent more time playing catch in the backyard, helping with homework, and listening to their children's stories. The rankings on their mugs may have changed, but so had their priorities.
In the end, it didn't matter whether a dad was #1 or #100, as long as he was there for his kids. And the world was a better place for it.
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u/Ifckdurm0m Nov 13 '22 edited Nov 13 '22
“Hey hun can you turn on the coffee pot for me?” “Yeah no problem” I close my eyes for what feels like a second. I open them again to see the clock. 6:17. I have to be out of the house in ten minutes. Shit. I rush through my morning routine and run down the stairs. The only mug left. “#1 dad” Ellie got me this for Christmas last year. Damnit the coffees cold. I pour myself a nice cold cup of Joe and get in the car. The radios already on. I flip through stations while I sit at a red light. “Yeah apparently everyone’s #1 dad mugs have changed to what their actual rating is. I’m 5,982,876,324 It’s absolutely ridiculous.” “I’m just curious as to who got #1” very funny. I keep flipping through. Finally some good music. I arrive at work and everyone is talking about the stupid talk show. “Well I have 2,673,435,782. So I’m higher than all of you” I glance back at my mug. “#1 dad” what kind of joke is this. I walk up to John and ask what’s going on. “You didn’t hear? Everyone’s #1 dad mug changed to what their actual rating is. Did you look at yours?” “But that’s impossible John.” “ it seems like it should be, but it’s not. Look around.” I take a glance at the room around me. All of these mugs they all have excruciatingly large numbers. numbers I can’t even read. I looked back down at mine. Still reads #1 dad. “Chris? Well? Did you look at yours?” I hand John my mug. “what the fuck?” “Must be a glitch or something.“ “yeah… must be” by the time John handed me back my mug everyone was looking at us. “Chris? Is that yours?” “No it can’t be. It’s gotta be a mess up.” Ouch. Although I’m not the perfect dad I like to think I’m a pretty damn good one. Ellie being my only child, I get to give her all my attention. I get to spoil her rotten. I get to teach her how to not be a brat. I love her to death. But I can’t be the best dad in the world. Ellie turns 18 tomorrow. We’re throwing a party. a big one. We’re surprising her with her favorite car, her best friend he lives 32 hours away, And a cat. Some other miscellaneous items too. This can’t possibly make me the best dad in the entire world. there has to be someone who has done better than me. but according to my mug, there is not. I do not understand this. I do not understand how this could be. It seems quite impossible. This all feels like a fever dream. I pinch myself. “Ouch” “Chris are you ok?” “Yea yea just trying to wrap my head around this?” “It’s a glitch dude. Don’t think too hard.” “But what if… what if it’s not?” “Well then congrats man. You won the lottery.” Yea… I guess I really did.
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u/theoknem Oct 05 '17
Dad Race
This article refers to the international competition. For the Dutch colloquial term, see “Dad Race [Dutch]”.
The Dad Race was the international competition in which fathers throughout the world participated in a race to become the Number 1 Dad. The competition commenced with the unusual ranking of Dads on a Number 1 Dad Mug, later known to be a plot by North Korea to distract their main ally, the United States of America.
The Dad Race began on when several North Korean hackers, titled ’Gongsang Gwahag Hyeonsil’ [roughly translated to ‘Sci-Fi Reality’], managed to activate the hidden database embedded into the mug. They had been planted there during manufacture and was part of the International Hide and Seek spy program, initiated in early 2015, which involved many forms of infiltration and information gathering, a popular method used in many other warring nations.
In July of 2017, once the mugs had been spread throughout the globe as ‘innocent gifts’, the competition began with the activation of the database. The database connected with the father’s records and personal details, and decided how deserving the father was of the phrase ‘Number 1 Dad’. The database then displayed an accurate reading of the current worthiness of the title ‘Number 1 Dad’, numbering all fathers with a mug.
The mugs had immediate effect. International news coverage was dedicated to following the top fathers throughout the world, and fathers upped their efforts to improve their number. Global unemployment rates dropped to an all-time low of 12%, international militaries received a 250% influx of enlistment, and even companies such as NASA received a boost in applications for space training in their facilities. In a desperate attempt to make their families proud, some fathers committed suicide to improve their levels. The mugs were having the effect that the North Koreans had wanted – creating chaos and uncertainty throughout the world.
The embedded databases were quickly discovered inside the mugs, but no links to the Koreans were found. Speculation quickly fell onto the mug manufacturing industries, but all denied any involvement in the plan. The North Koreans deployed many spies inside the US and allied countries, going unknown due to the controversy. Finally, in July 2018, the North Koreans launched a surprise assault on Guam, a United States air force base, and declared war on the US with allies China and the newly-reformed USSR on the 5th of October, 2018.
This article continues on World War III. You can read that here.
Last updated 7th April, 2021 by theoknem.
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u/Ifuktractors Jul 25 '17
I was spread comfortably across my brown leather sofa, quietly sipping my cup of tea as suddenly, I noticed something rather strange. The mug sitting in my hands seemed to be...buffering. It previously had '#1 DAD' enthusiastically plastered around the side in bold letters, which had now been replaced with the loading symbol you might find slowly limping around itself over and over again on your monitor as you violently screamed at your internet connection. Timmy hadn't filled me in on this aspect of the mug he had bought me on my birthday, but with all those new 'smart' objects banging around it wasn't that big of a surprise. What came next however, was a surprise.
"Dammit, what are you even loading anyway?!" I snarled, slamming the mug down onto the table beside me. I sighed, turning away from the mug to stare up at the ceiling. Had we really come this far? Would I now spend my tea-breaks relentlessly screaming at the router to "Hurry up and work or I'll blame that interracial midget porn on you and we'll have to send you off to get 'fixed'"? Suddenly, a loud crash erupted by my feet, I swiftly sat up and darted my eyes around the room in an attempt to figure out what had just happened. Had the router read my mind?! Had it heard my midget porn threats and decided to just end it here and now? No, it wasn't the router, it was....something else, a large ceramic tube was protruding from the wall all the way to the table, to the exact spot my mug had been just a few seconds ago. I jumped up from the sofa, a mix of curiosity and terror flooding through my body, and took a closer look at our new piece of furniture. Across the side of the tube was a string of numbers, they seemed to be never ending, flowing all the way up to the wall. I took a look out the window to the left of me, to discover something truly terrifying, the tube didn't just stop at the wall, it extended through the wall, stopping just shy of the garden table outside. My fear and curiosity was then replaced with rage, hell, what's the point in being scared if you're going to be killed anyway, my wife kicked me out for a week last month for dropping a glass of orange juice, who knows what she'd do if she found out about the gaping hole I had put through our house. I pushed the table out from underneath the pole and dropped to my knees for a closer inspection, on the end of the pole I could see I found a handle. Wait, was this...my mug?! I glanced over to the side and found the big bold # symbol that belonged on my '#1 DAD' mug. I leaped up from my knees and ran outside to the end of the tube. Sure enough, DAD was slapped on the end of the tube in large, black letters. It was my mug, however there was one difference, the number 1 had now become a long string of numbers, significantly knocking me down in the dad ranking charts. I dragged myself back inside and slumped back onto the sofa, not only was I going to be killed, but I was also no longer the #1 dad.
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u/fierce_jellybean Jun 30 '17
I bet you didn't know that the dad mugs don't actually rank every dad in existence. They only rank out of those who own the mugs, and I'll be darned if every dad in the world, Europeans, Asians, and Africans own one of those very American mugs.
So it's only a ranking of American dads. That's still a bunch of people competing to be on top. More people in my small town have gone fishing all at once than ever before and the local stores have run out of flowers. There's a half a year long waiting list, though as the mugs have just now started to enter the international market. If you want a high number, you should probably join the mug band wagon now, because your ranking will drop eventually, right?
Well I'm in no rush, because I know that my dad is the best, no matter what. He's a good parent not because he cares about his parenting in comparison to others, but because he does what he thinks is right. I know that this whole thing is weird and my dad would probably think it petty, but I want to get him a mug to see what number he would be.
But like I said, all the mugs have sold out, on and off line, How was I going to get my hands on one? Later I was thumbing through the news paper thinking about how happy my band friends would be to get turf on the football field when I had an idea. I could just borrow one, keep it for a day or two and then give it back. I got one of my close friends to lend me her dad's mug, and took it home.
Yet another news story about the mugs played on the tv. I was on the other end of the sofa and very subtly asked what Pa thought of it. He went into this rant about how pointless this whole thing was and that it was only an ego boost for the insecure to let some magic cup rate his parenting based on some golden standard it didn't even specify and how i should be focusing in school instead of this and how if he had had the opportunities I have he would have gone much further in life and how he is waiting to see how me and my sister do and how he wishes to go back home and become a monk in a monastery to truly understand Buddhism.
Then we watched The Simpsons.
It wasn't appropriate to bring the mug out after that, so I decided to give it back to my friend the next morning.
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u/Duncanidaho25 Jun 16 '17
A white coffee cup sits on a brown table bathed in sunlight. Coffee staining the bottom in creamy swirls. On the outside are the worlds “father number” punctuated with a colon and followed by a the numeral 4 with six zeros.
A man, stubble-chinned, groggy, barely robed, and three-quarters depressed stairs at his mug, as coffee percolates. The smell permeates the otherwise stale apartment. Coffee generously covers the odors of half eaten pizza, dirty laundry strewn about (though the word laundry implies intent to wash the filthy rags) and by far the most offensive smell, my dad sitting there waiting to fill his white mug with black coffee. He sits unmoving, while I search for something bearable to wear to school. The process involves sniffing several odorous garments. He sits as I brush (with the only toothbrush in the house). He sits as I pick up the mess all around him. He sits as I cook 2 eggs. He sits as I pour the coffee.
I hand him the coffee. He takes it. He sips.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say with all the persuasion I can muster (it does matter). He stares. “I don’t care what number that thing says, neither did she.”
Most census agree there are somewhere between 80 million fathers out there that puts you right in the middle...that means you’re not half bad right? I hoped for a chuckle or a smile, but my only reward was the stare.
“I have to go now. Will you be ok?” I ask perfunctorily.
I hug his shoulders. He sits. I grab my backpack and phone and head for the door. The apartment is quiet as my footsteps fade in the distance down the stairs of our shitty apartment. He finishes his coffee. He sets the white coffee cup on the brown table. It now read “Father number: 39,999,999. He sits. He stares.
I love my dad.
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u/InsaneDolphin Jun 13 '17 edited Jun 13 '17
I walk over to the fire place and pick up the ** #1 Dad! mug I got my Dad for Father's Day years ago. Every day I look at that mug, to spark creativity. As an aspiring artist, I've been sculpting for nearly a decade! I'm 17 now, and have a lot of experience. But looking at this mug always reminds me that creativity won't help you by itself, because art involves practice, practice, practice. This mug, from art class when I was in first grade, proves that I have come along way from a leaking, sagging, pinch-sculpted mug with no handle. I set the cup back down, and tell my Dad I'm borrowing his truck to go to the store. I get in the new red Toyota Tacoma, and go to Walmart. It's the cheapest place to get clay of, errr, ok quality. Alright, it's horrible, but I go through too much clay to sink all my money into something from an art store. I walk to the art supply section, and pass a fathers day themed stand, full of mugs. They all say ** # Dad. That must be a defect. Why wouldn't they include a number? I pick up my art supplies and head to the check out. In front of me in line, a man is purchasing one of the defective mugs. The clerk scans it and asks if he wants a bag. He says "No" and swipes his Visa. The clerk hands it to him, and he walks away. I notice the mug now says ** #47,981,315 Dad! I immediately rub my eyes, thinking there must be something in them. I look again, but nothing's changed. The bright white mug has the same thing printed across the mug in thick black letters. I pay for my clay and head out to the truck. Not sure what just happened, I try to brush it off and forget by turning on the radio. The first thing I hear on the talk radio channel currently on is ** A weird phenomenon has many people confused. Unexplainably, all mugs that say #1 Dad, have had the number one replace. That's right folks, all #1 Dad mugs now state fathers' actual rankings among the other Dads of the world. This goes for ones purchased or made now, or in the past. This Father's Day, you may want to stay clear of a gift like this, unless you have a really great Dad. Back to you Bob. I quickly slam the radio button off. That's freaky, but what is more worrying is that my first sculpted mug, may be ruined. Surely my Dad will not want a mug that puts him behind millions of fathers! I mean, I have a great Dad, but no father wants that. I get back in the house, and go to remove the mug from the fireplace mantle. It still says it. ** #1 Dad! I have ** thee #1 Dad!
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u/SomethingMarvelous Jun 13 '17
“Did you hear?” Leslie asked as she banged the front door shut behind her.
I could only imagine one thing she might be talking about. It had been everywhere at school that day—in hurried between-class conversations, in the five-minute daily news summary my politics teacher played at the start of each class, even on the desk of my statistics teacher, who ranked #1,000,371. (We’d asked him why he wasn’t embarrassed to have everyone see it, and he’d enthusiastically explained what a great object lesson in population size it was. After he’d finished explaining, we’d had to admit he was doing pretty well for himself.)
“Yeah, of course I heard,” I said. Leslie glanced toward the mug cabinet and I shrugged in invitation. “I already checked, but you can see for yourself.”
She was already halfway across the kitchen as she demanded, “Come on, how did he—?”
I smirked. “How do you think?”
Leslie didn’t have to look far, since I’d already done all the rummaging. “Huh,” she said after a second.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You think he’ll watch the news?”
My sister laughed. “Does he ever?” Then she said more soberly, “Trish, we can’t ever tell him.”
“Well, obviously,” I said. If he found out, he’d never let us forget about it. “Shouldn’t be a problem, though. Unless he sees somebody else’s mug, he’ll never know the difference.”
Dedicated to my dad. Happy early Father's Day, #1 Dad!
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u/kittendoll Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 14 '17
Michael smiled under his waxed moustache, tissue paper falling away under his fingertips. World's #1 Dad, the mug said proudly. He glanced past it to the boy, watching him back with eager, expectant eyes. It hadn't been easy raising him alone, but it had to be done, had to make sure he brought the boy up right. "Well, I can't truly say I'm surprised, m'boy, but confirmation and appreciation are always wonderful things."
Ryan's eyes flicked between the mug and his father's face. His hands respectfully held behind his waist. "Actually, Sir, you need to calibrate it. Just squeeze the handle like you would if it was full?"
Michael's face darkened at being contradicted, but even he would acknowledge that the greatest of men could still make mistakes out of partial information. "Ah, new technology," he waffled to cover the ignorance. "In my day, mugs were only for drinking out of! Not that my day is in any way over!" A quick shift and a quick squeeze, and '#1' vanished in a cloud of furious pixels and pigment, after a moment covered by a loading bar. The expectation that filled the room was palpable, but ever to be denied. The bar was replaced with a flashing red '[ERROR]' covering the whole of the mug's surface.
"Well, father," Ryan said, "it looks like I'll have to apologize."
"Nonsense, m'boy! The knick-nack isn't your fault! Likely made in China, or somesuch."
"Not to you, father. For you." His hand came forward, well trained, harshly schooled, he brought the hammer into the side of his father's neck. He watched hands and mug alike fall. His other hand caught the mug, setting it on the coffee table. He picked up each of his father's hands once and let them fall, satisfied the old man was at least going to be paralysed for the rest of his life, itself a discintly short interval. He sat down next to him, staring forward as if to burn a hole in the wall with his gaze.
"I didn't want to believe her. I mean, you've always been an asshole, but some things, I just didn't want to accept it. The blood test proved we were related, and so I called Mom. I don't know what I expected out of asking her if I had an older sister, but it wasn't for her to just break down sobbing until I hung up."
"If I hadn't been there that day, she'd have killed you the day I met her. She wanted me to understand first, so it wouldn't become some circle of revenge thing. I almost wish it had. That would have been so much simpler, so much cleaner."
"Nobody's sure how the mugs rank fathers, what the criteria really are." Ryan set aside the hammer, moving to the kitchen and returning with a large knife. The tip pressed gently into Michael's throat, not quite breaking the skin.
"But what you did, there's only one way to make right. I couldn't believe her, I wasn't sure, not until now. Any man who could do what you did to my sister is a monster. Any man who could do that to his own daughter is no father at all."
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u/outofoptions24 Jun 12 '17
"What's this?"
Anna, bless her preteen heart, rolled her eyes. "It's a mug, Mom."
"You already got me a Best Mom mug last year. This one says #1 Dad." Elaine laughs, then moves over to ruffle her daughter's hair affectionately. "Why, have you decided you want to get me stuff for Father's Day too?"
Anna starts to shift uncomfortably in her seat, fingers pulling at the ends of her shirt. "Well... I never even knew Dad before he took off, and then everyone was talking about what they were going to buy THEIR Dads, and I just thought, since you've been both parents to me, I -"
Elaine reached down and enfolded her daughter in a hug. "You are the best little girl a mother could ask for. Now get ready for bed."
"I'm not a little girl!"
Both Elaine and Anna were too busy with breakfast the next morning to really notice the commotion outside their neighbours' houses. There were raised voices and even a couple of fistfights. Strangely enough, a lot of people were even waving mugs around threateningly.
Elaine had decided to put her new gift to good use. "So. Guess I'm #1 Dad too, huh?"
It always hurt her heart a little whenever her daughter smiled at her that way. "You bet, Mom."
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u/Noxilcash Jun 12 '17
David Kemper woke up as he does every morning at around 6:00 am. He awakes and slumps out of bed reaching for his bath robe. Stumbling out of his room tying the robe around him he eventually makes his way to the kitchen for his ritual coffee and "news paper" reading, which has evolved into reading the headlines on websites like Yahoo, MSN, and the towns local site. David moves a seat a way from the table and props up his laptop so that both are ready for him as he returns from making his coffee. He groggily picks a coffee mug out of the cupboard, sets a k-cup in the Kurig and presses the brew button. Around this time, his son usually gets home from working night shift. Nick was unusually awake given that he normally sleeps during the day, so he decides to shoot the shit and talk a little with his father. David, coffee in hand, returns back to his seat placing the coffee cup on the table and repositioning his laptop. Nick looked at the mug and let out a small chuckle and joked at his dad.
"World's number 1 dad, hah, yeah right." He said sarcastically knowing full well that his dad knew it was Nick who bought him the mug. David grabbed the mug and turned it in his hands so he could read it himself and let out a smirk as he joked back to his son.
"Well somebody thinks so."
3
u/lemoniser Jun 12 '17
Kevin was as pure of heart a boy as one could find. Like so many little boys he adored his father, who shone in Kevin's thoughts as bright as the Sun; his light blocking out so much else.
Just last year Kevin had taken his pocket money and bought his father a "#1 Dad" mug from a stall at school set up for Father's day. Rob gave Kevin a great big hug when he got it and took his mug to work so he'd drink out of it everyday and be reminded of his son throughout the day.
Kevin often asked his dad about the mug and every answer set him giggling. Tonight Kevin sat in a restaurant full of all that giggling energy as his mum was carrying a cake over with sprinklers aflame as everyone sang to him. When she set the cake in front of him he saw that there was a great big candle stuck in the middle, its flame dancing around. Seven.
As the final hooray died down with applause from the restaurant, Kevin's mum said "Make a wish!" Looking up at his big strong dad Kevin thought, 'I wish I could show him what a great dad he was!'
And with a great big inhale of air Kevin blew out that candle to another round of applause. As the cake was moved away an old woman leant over and asked, "what did you wish for?!" But another old woman from the table said "you mustn't tell her or it won't come through! She'll just have to guess."
Kevin giggled and covered his mouth.
What Kevin didn't know was that his wish had come true! Or was going to at least, midnight is the most magic hour after all.
And so at midnight, when Kevin was tucked into bed full of cake and joy, the red writing on a mug in an office shimmered and shifted. Coming into a jumble the characters reformed themselves, spelling out "#1 Dad" once more. President Obama picked the mug up, still reading the report in his hand, and took another drink of his coffee. It was suddenly even better!
As if it were warmer and was carrying that warmth into Barack's body. The taste itself too! as if someone had added some cinnamon and Frangelico. Putting down the report, Barack held the mug in both hands, enjoying the warmth. Fondly he stared at the writing looking up at him. "#1 Dad".
He thought of his girls and looked at their picture on his desk; Michelle, Sasha and Malia. With a wry smile he returned to his report.
Inside another office, dark with only some dull far off fluorescent lights on, sat the mug Kevin had bought. Featuring several chips and the dark outline of a non-fatal crack, it sat amongst the communal mugs. On its front now it read "#18,468,033 Dad". For though Kevin loved him, the same could not be said of Rob and contrary to popular belief, magic was an exceedingly exact science.
All the things Kevin thought that Rob did for him, he never understood how much of it his mother had done or how poorly Rob treated her. Indeed, Rob was not what Kevin would come to think of as a good man. Robert would actively steal credit and lie to his son. Always seeking the easy path, always feeling sorry for himself. In the greater scheme of things however Kevin soon came to this realisation regarding his mother and father.
And though this caused much pain and sadness, they were all better off for it and Kevin came to learn a great deal about how to act.
The end.
16
u/moonlight9696 Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 12 '17
It was mayhem.
"Kids, settle down!" Miss Jenner was attempting to calm down the group of kids in her classroom. "Everyone, quiet!!!"
They didn't even notice her.
"Look, my Dad just sent me a picture of his mug," George, the tallest third-grader in the class, gloated. A picture of a mug, saying "#28 Dad," flashed on the iPhone in his hands.
"Yeah, well," Andy Sanders interrupted "Pops just called, and his mug says #26!"
It was the day of the Great Mug Revelation. Or as the kids inside the room shouted: My Dad is Greater than Your Dad Day.
"Kids, I'm begging you," the teacher pleaded, her hair in a mess. She may just as well give up. Nothing was stopping these kids from bragging about their wonderful fathers.
An eight-year old with blonde pigtails sat quietly in the corner of the room, pretending to read her book. Lisa knew fully well she couldn't join the endless chatter of her classmates. No matter how happy her Dad made her feel, his mug's number will never change.
First off, all mugs in their home were plain, with no writings on them.
Second, she was adopted.
The Great Mug Revelation's rules were clear. Technicalities, more like. The mug should have a written #1 Dad on it. The Dad must be a biological father.
The bell rang, interrupting her thoughts, followed by hundreds of kids running towards the gates, their enthused fathers waiting for them. It was all "Dad you're still the best for me!!!", or "Wow, Pops, you ranked so high!" with an occasional "You could do better, Dad."
Her Dad wasn't there. With a heavy heart, she ran home.
"How's school?" Terrence Andrews greeted his daughter when she got home. He had just finished preparing dinner for the family.
Lisa walked past him, not saying a word. This must be about the Great Mug Revelation, he thought despondently to himself. The rules of the Revelation were announced a month ago on TV to give fathers all around the world to prepare. There was a little excitement at first, but when the technicalities were stated, Terrence looked at his daughter, tears forming in her eyes.
Lisa knew she was adopted since she was six.
The young girl promptly threw all printed mugs the next day.
Using a Sharpie, Lisa scribbled on the blank white mugs she got from the cupboard. She wanted to write * #1 DAD IN THE WHOLE WHOLE WIDE WORLD, but she knew it wouldn't be right. Somewhere, around the world, a father would be holding a mug whose writing didn't change, basking in pride. *The true #1 Dad.
Then, as if a bulb appeared above her head, her face glowed with a smile. She was about to write a number she was sure that no mug in the world stated.
Her father found her sitting on the kitchen table, a marker and a mug in hand.
"Lisa, dear, what are you doing?" Terrence asked the little girl.
When Lisa was done, she gave her Dad the scribbled mug. For a moment, his face was scrunched up, trying to give meaning to the number written on the mug. Then realization dawns. Terrence gave her daughter a tight, warm hug, and said "Clever girl." He chuckled, his little girl in his arms "I love, love, love you so much."
"She waited two hours for your goodnight kiss, you know," Terrence was on the table, sipping a late-night cocoa.
"I know, I know," the man wearing a suit reached high for the coffee mix, his agile hands stretched out. "I didn't expect the traffic, I'm sorry."
"Look," Terrence pointed to his mug. "That wonderful daughter of ours," he said with a grin.
Lucas Andrews looked at his mug, with "* #0.5 Dad*" marked in his daughter's neat handwriting. He gave Terrence a lighthearted smile. "It's a tie, isn't it?"
5
u/Dododingo- Jun 12 '17
Somewhere far away from the constant fight for dad-ranking that erupted soon after the Event, was a chest whose existence was known to none but one. Inside rested the most shameful secret of all, one who might shake the foundation of the world and threaten Heaven's peace. For in the chest was a mug, whose inscription read :
For the #2 Dad
- From Jesus -
2
u/KingNoodleWalrus Jun 12 '17
This strange thing with the "Magic #1 Dad mugs" left nothing but confusion and the bitter taste of sorrow in Russ's mouth. After all, with all his classmates alternatively bragging about or hiding their father's scores, what was he supposed to do? Though his mother had only ever brought it up a few times during his life, and he knew she loved him above all else, the words still burned in his mind and heart. "Bastard." "Mistake." What did you do when you never had a father in the first place? What do you tell your best friend, proudly displaying their dad's mug that boldy proclaimed "Top 2% Dad" while you never had such a thing in the first place? How do you tell those with curious and confused stares that your father never even knew you existed? With every moment Russ's shame grew. He didn't dare give one of those damned mugs to his mother's husband, because despite the attempt to connect Russ knew that any rank shown would only shame his step-father. Days of confusion went by before his grandfather, his Bumpa, decided to drop by. A swarthy, stocky Arabic man full of good humor, love and joy, anyone who saw him with the tall, dour teen would never think that they were related. And in a way, they would be right. Though they would never be blood relations, Bumpa could never possibly be more dear to Russ's heart. Truly, this was a man worthy of praise and reverence. Even the squirming, shimmering letter on the large mug Russ presented to him one day agreed; "#1 Grandfather" only confirmed what Russ knew all along. "So what if I have no father? 'Mistake' and 'Bastard' I may be, but I'll be damned if that ever stops me from being as great as man and Father as my Bumpa is to me."
Thanks for reading! I'm sure this is pretty subpar compared to just about every reply on this post, but reading through them really moved me down paths I haven't gone down in a while, and I just needed to pour it all out.
27
u/ImaginedDialogue Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 12 '17
Bert looked at his beer.
"Huh."
The words danced a lazy, slow, circle in front of his eyes. "World's #1382009216 Dad."
They hadn't been there a moment ago.
"Hey, Joe!"
The barman strolled over. "What's up, Bert? Need a refill?"
"Where'd you get the trick mugs?"
"Whaddaya mean?" asked the barman, then looked at Bert's half-finished pint.
"See? It's got words on it, suddenly."
"W-w-w-w-" said Joe.
Bert sat on the edge of his bed, the late morning sun giving him a headache. He stared at the mug in his hands, at the words "World's #1382018297 Dad". The last digits were flickering, upwards, downwards as he stared. So, it hadn't been just the beer. His hangover pounded in his brain, seemingly in time with the spinning digits. His phone rang. He ignored it until it stopped, and kept just staring at the ever changing number on the mug
Finally, he spoke out loud to nobody.
"I don't even have kids!"
He skipped the pub that evening, and woke up clear-minded on a Monday morning. It felt really weird. He quickly donned his uniform, microwaved a burrito, and almost as an afterthought, stuffed his world's #13-something dad into his backpack. Rushing to the bus stop, he noticed the sky was darker than usual. Six stops, seven, eight, then he hoisted his backpack, tagged off the bus and sprinted to the workshop.
"Sorry I'm late!"
The supervisor looked up from the desk in the corner. "Bert?"
"I'm sorry!"
"For being late? Your shift doesn't start for another hour."
"What?"
"It's only 7 o'clock."
Bert stood, stunned, while this information sank in.
"Look, it's great you're here, just clock in. Half the crew's called in today, I'll need you to do overtime anyway, since you're here. It's this bloody mug thing."
"Mug thing?" said Bert.
"Yeah, don't you read the papers? Lucky you and I don't have kids, but it looks like we'll have to pick up everyone's slack for today."
Bert glanced towards his backpack. "Yeah, lucky. No kids," he said, flatly.
Pete pulled up a seat next to Bert at the diner.
"Whatcha got there?" He said, then "Oh, my God."
Bert tried to hide the mug inside his jacket, but it was obvious Pete had already seen it.
"I thought you didn't have kids?" Pete inquired.
"I...." Bert began. I don't. I don't kave kids.... do I?
"Let's see it," said Pete. Bert hesitantly drew it out. He could see Pete reading the number, counting the digits. "Huh."
"That's good, right?" said Bert. "A hundred and thirty four million?"
"I don't think that's 134 million," said Pete, counting the digits again. "It's 1.34 billion, Bert."
Pete frowned sadly, then after a pause, "Still, that's good, right? There's seven million... I mean billion people in the world, after all."
"They aren't all dads, Bert."
Bert frowned and moved his lips, as he tried to divide seven billion by two. "So, one something out of three and... a half?"
"Not all men are dads, Bert."
Bert looked at the mug. Pete looked at Bert. Bert blinked and a tear fell. He wiped it away in embarrassed anger. Pete put his hand on Bert's arm. "You have to find him, Bert. Him or her."
World's #1347710810 Dad read the text on the mug. As Bert looked, and another tear rolled down his cheek, the 134 dropped to 133, then 132, then slowly to 131...
"Yeah," he whispered.
The bus station was crowded. Here, a newspaper stand boasted a headline "Jackdaw County's Best Dad!" with a smiling face holding up a mug with a really small number. There, a young man and woman sobbing in the arms of an old man. Bert looked at his own mug, frowned, left the ticket queue he was in, and started making his way to the back of the next.
He'd called his supervisor and spent fifteen minutes being chewed out. Now he was here. He joined the end of the queue, and glanced at the mug. World's number 1066281104 dad. He frowned and left that queue and skipped to the end of the yet another. This time, when he glanced at the mug, he felt a thrill as he saw the number spinning down, down, past a billion, past 900 million, eventually settling on a number in the high eight hundred millions.
His head was so light, it seemed almost no time at all that he was asking the clerk to suggest destinations, checking each suggestion against his mug, and emptying his wallet to pay for a ticket.
Now the bus was pulling onto the highway. He stared at the mug, orange sunbeams striking the tears and the smile on his face.
The doorbell rang. World's number 202,179,553 mum switched off the faucet, and sighed, watching the suds quietly fizzing in the sink.
She sighed again, and called "Coming!"
She was going to be late for work. Again. Her boss wouldn't fire her this time, though, too many people were taking time off as it was. She would tell whoever was at the door to leave, wait to be sure they had, then get her son in the car. Hopefully he'd gotten his school clothes on by himself this time.
She inserted the chain latch, unbolted the door, and ....
The unkempt man outside saw her face, and gasped slightly. He looked unshaven, his clothes wrinkled as if he'd slept in them. He smelled slightly.
He seemed very familiar.
"Bertrand?" she asked.
"Lorraine?"
"What... what are you doing here?"
The man opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. The skin around his eyes turned red, as if he was going to cry. "I..."
"Is that really you, Bertrand? What are you doing here?"
"I... I got a mug."
He pulled a dirty beer glass from within his jacket, and showed her.
"World's five ... ", she counted the digits to be sure. "number five hundred million dad?"
Bert's tears flowed then. Lorraine watched him sob, sob and sob and sob, watched his tears trickle and his nose go runny. She had no idea what to do or say.
A small voice spoke behind her, "Mum, who's at the door?"
3
u/TotesMessenger X-post Snitch Jun 12 '17
I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/imagineddialogue] [WP] All of the "#1 Dad" mugs in the world change to show the actual ranking of Dads suddenly. • r/WritingPrompts
If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads. (Info / Contact)
4
u/Marblue Jun 12 '17
"Afternoon Steve!" a gruff voice croaked.
"Oh, Hey Bill" Steve was on auto pilot. He had been hearing some crazy stuff in the office and couldn't focus very well.
"So.... have you looked at your mug yet?" Bill flashed a quick smile, his entire face was red and shiny, his mustache a common intruder to his lips looked like a used workshop broom.
"Nah, not yet it's at home" Steve was trying to hide his disdain, somehow out of EVERYONE IN THE WORLD his Asshole Manager gets the #1!? He Doesn't even have kids!
"Ya'know, I'm glad I never had kids, look at everyone freaking out! This is like Christmas! Maybe we can go home early, you know Boss has already left, aren't you a little curious what you're number is?" Bill chortled.
"well, I know what number I'm not..." Steve trailed off and let the thought of maybe #2 might be a decent constellation prize. "you're right, Bill, let's go."
Steve pulled up into his driveway, and couldn't contain his curiosity and booked it for the cupboard. Clink! Clank! Everything was getting shifted... where was it? It had been here this morning when he left! Why didn't he grab that mug instead? "what are you looking for honey? Please keep it down, i just put Allison down!" Steve's wife Marissa was standing in the doorway, and it looked like she had something in her hand. The mug? "Oh, uh sorry. There was a lot of talk at work about Dad mugs and I wanted to see if something was on it." Steve tried to keep his curiosity at bay. "Do you have it in your hands?" Steve's brow started to furrow as his wife's body language wasn't looking good. "Yeah, uh... this is it. I think it broke? I'm... I'm not sure whats wrong with it.. its like.. it partially changed... but the numb-" "The number?" Steve interrupted, he made a grab for the mug and she obliged. Steve's eyes were as big as saucers, the number...."Is Blank?" Steve was confused, He has a Wife AND a daughter? How does this get fixed? What's his number?? "I guess this one's a du-" Steve stopped in his tracks Why was his boss in his hallway..talking to his wife, with...a mug? Steve walked over to the hallway, and stood next to his wife. "Mr. Cameron, what can I do for you? Why are you speaking to my wife?" Steve was getting more worried by the second. "you.. weren't supposed to be home..yet..." his wife spoke softly "wait. WHAT?" Steve's mind was reeling THIS is why his boss got #1 Dad... and OH MY GOD! His Daughter... Even his daughter...
He was free.
Im high and typing this out, so theres that. I hope you all enjoy! _^
3
u/detecting_nuttiness Jun 12 '17
1 Apr. 2019
9:35 am
Dear Diary,
This morning, I reached into the kitchen cabinet to grab my husband's mug for his daily cup of coffee. When I felt for the mug and took it from the cabinet, I realized it was different. Instead of "#1 Dad" like it normally reads, it said "#14,985,664 Dad."
Of course Paul wasn't up yet, so I went to Ian, sitting on the computer in his bedroom. "Very funny," I told him. "Did your brother put you up to this?" Ian swiveled around in his chair. His smile slipped away and his face transformed into a look of genuine concern. He kept looking at the mug and looking at my face. The look in his eyes reminded me of the time we told him that his pet rabbit had died. I was uneasy.
"Did..." he started, "Did you swap out Dad's mug?" At this point I was beginning to wonder if the school play was getting to him, and if Ian was becoming a better actor after all. "Of course not," I told him. "I had assumed it was you or Paul."
"No, mom," he shakily replied, "look at this." He moved over to show me his flickering computer screen. "He's always got his face in that machine," I thought, "of course he's trying to distract me with something unrelated."
On screen, he had one of those social media sites up. The one with the little bird. There was so much going on in the screen I couldn't concentrate. He told me, "Mom, look what's trending. Hashtag, dad-gate"
"What on Earth?" I thought. Or at least, I thought that I had thought it. I must have whispered it under my breath, because Ian began explaining that because of Nixon's fiasco at Watergate, people have begun to use the "-gate" suffix to describe a scandal. He showed me photos of mugs that had "#693,200 Dad" on it, mugs that had "1337,000,000" which was apparently significant, and all kinds of other numbers.
He even said our president sent out a twitter saying "#1 Dad," but that the image probably had a photo-shop.
I still don't know what any of this means. I have to take the kids to school. I'll write another entry tonight.
3
u/THOUGHT_BOMB Jun 12 '17
Randy walks into the kitchen in his bathrobe, Stan is using an eraser on some paper
Stan, number 1612578662!
Stan looks up, confused What dad?
Randy obviously distressed
'My #1 Dad mug I got you for me for Christmas has changed!'
'So' Stan quipped back
'I'm not #1, don't you see what this means?'
'...no' replied Stan
Randy ignoring Stan's confusion keeps going
'Do you think it's cumulative... like of all fathers alive, or total fathers that existed?
The mug changes to now say #1612578669
'GAWW, downs seven more!' Yelled Randy
'Dad I'm having some trouble with this science question, the hardest mineral is -'
'I mean, I'm a great father, #1, the best!' interrupts Randy
1700000013
'BAHH!' Randy blurts out, 'That's it, I'm going to find whoever this #1 guy is and show him just how great a father I can be!'
Randy storms out of the house
Phone rings, Stan picks up
'Oh hey dude, yeah - what's you put for question #4?'
2
u/Penguinmang Jun 12 '17
Ahmed sat in the chair in his apartment, counting down. One of the very few articles of furniture that he had at all, he sat on a simple wooden chair, situated right in the middle of the small, small room.
"30...29...28...27..."
pum pum pum pum
The sounds of gunshots outside produced no sounds but complete discord, following with the unsteady cracking sounds of the concrete apartment building. He could've ran away, but he knew that was just delaying the inevitable. He thought it was better than the hell he's been going through constantly running away for the past few days. So he returned. Ahmed returned to the place he knew best.
In the throes of revolution, radical groups surrounded the apartment building. He remembered those couple minutes in such details as if they were hours.
The combination of the American helicopter blades throwing up dust in every direction for what seemed like an endless radius, and the tears filling his eyes and rolling down his cheek tasted awful, and made it almost impossible to see. The sound of the soldier yelling that they can't fit everybody was almost masked by the loud whirring beats of the blades. Holding up his six year old son with the determination of what made him feel like a skyscraper, he was screaming what wasn't even words. The greatest feeling of all was when that weight was taken off his arms.
"19...18...17..."
He remembered the time before that happened. His constant attention was on his little boy. No matter what was happening in his country he wanted to make sure that nothing would get in the way of his little boy having a good life. He would take him out for walks. He would play catch with him. He would walk in the extremely small street markets to get food, his son on his shoulders. He taught him how to read and write, even when his son protested. Every day when they walked back home from anywhere, he would show his son the beautiful white jasmine.
"14...13...12..."
The room crackled. He remembered the feeling when his son caught the ball for the first time.
"11...10...9..."
The room started rocking back and forward. He remembered his son laughing maniacally on his shoulders.
"8...7...6..."
He remembered the smell of the jasmine. It always smelled better when he was with his son.
"5...4..."
He picked up the mug on the table to the right. Through tears, he read what was crudely written in marker, written for him three years ago.
"بابا #1"
"3...2..."
He remembered the smell of the jasmine. It always smelled better when he was with his son.
5
u/potatoRme Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 12 '17
The box Todd carried to his car felt heavier than it should have for something full of random knick-knacks. That same box, now shoved behind his back seat, held his fascination throughout the hour long drive back to his home. He just couldn’t understand it, a whole lifetime boiled down to a single box. Sure, his dad wasn’t someone who believed in materialism, but ONE box? Only one?? Apparently so, Dad’s lawyer said he had signed away everything else: donated it or left it to long lost cousins he’d never heard of. The only things he’d wanted Todd to have were what was in this box. His dad’s most valuable possessions were currently shoved behind his back seat. And it was driving Todd nuts. It was all he could think about.
What could it be? What could it be? What could it be?
Every time he rethought it, his foot got heavier on the gas pedal and he was going faster and faster. In 45 minutes, he pulled into his driveway, grabbed the box, and then, suddenly, all of Dad’s most valuable possessions were sitting on his kitchen table. And after finding a knife, all of Dad’s most valuable possessions were in front of his face.
The first thing his eyes landed on was an old leather photo album. It was obviously greatly loved; the binding was cracked and the pages well worn. He flicked through it. Black and white photos of Mom and Dad getting married. So young. So in love. Pictures of him as a baby and their long family road trips together. Baseball games and boy scouts. Theme parks. Hot summers. Cold winters. He and his parents growing older, but still always smiling. A lifetime flashing by in an instant. Highschool. College. Graduation. Then it’s of him and Julie. His ex-girlfriend. It’s them at a friend’s wedding. They look so young. So in love. When did they last speak? Six-seven years ago now? Longer? He tries to remember why they broke up. He can’t. It hurts so he flips faster. The pages are less worn now, the pictures newer. He hardly noticed, but at some point, they gained color. It shows holidays and birthdays; celebrations between him and Mom and Dad. They look older. Still happy, but older. Easters. Thanksgivings. Then, abruptly, it’s just Dad and him. They don’t look as happy, but they still smile. Dad looks sicker. The pictures aren’t as frequent. Then, just as it once began, it ends. The last photo is a picture of the two of them from last Christmas. They’re in front of the tree wearing elf hats, sipping eggnog. Dad’s hooked up to an oxygen tank. He looks bad, nothing like the stocky young man from the beginning of the album. His smile is wide. Todd’s hurt has become a dull, yet all-encompassing ache. The white noise of his silent house booms in his ears. His vision starts to blur. Don’t cry. Dad wouldn’t want that.
As he moves to close the book a picture falls out from the back sleeve. It’s seems new. Suddenly, he’s looking at a kid he’s never seen before. It’s a school photo of a blonde kid, wearing a blue shirt. He smiles through missing teeth. Todd turns the photo around; four words are scribbled on the back. Dad’s handwriting.
Matt. Six years old.
Todd stares, but a few minutes later he still doesn’t understand it so he puts it aside. Beneath the photo album are the remnants of his dad’s life. His army tags. A baseball glove Dad’s owned since his teens. A ball signed by Lou Gehrig. Pictures of Dad he drew as a kid. A marriage certificate. More stuff. Cards. Awards. Old toys. Then suddenly, only one thing remains; the final and most peculiar item of all. A mug Todd had given him one Father’s Day that read ‘World’s #1 Dad’. It was a last-minute gift he’d found at the mall. He paid ten bucks for it.
Why does he still have this?
He pulls it out and suddenly the number on the front starts climbing. He blinks. But the number’s still climbing. Higher and higher. He drops it and it clanks as it hits the table. Still the number grows. It’s in the millions. The hundreds of millions. He can’t believe his eyes. He picks it back up. The number’s stopped. ‘World’s #661,455,678th Dad’. On the inside is a single sticky note. His dad’s handwriting of a phone number. Suddenly, his hands are shaking and he’s standing up to grab the phone. Dialing. Ringing. More ringing. The ringing lasts for seconds, but seconds seem like hours.
“Hello?” A familiar voice.
He looks back at the smiling blonde boy with the mouth full of missing teeth.
“Julie?” His voice cracks.
The number on the mug starts to lower.
3
u/writing_and_stuff Jun 12 '17
Gemma’s breath caught in her throat. She could hear him moving about the kitchen, his sure footsteps the same as usual. All morning she’d been getting texts from her girlfriends.
“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?” “Is this a joke??” “Philip hasn’t noticed, but…”
Picture after picture of coffee mugs. #2,675 Dad. 556,637th Greatest Dad. 477th Best Dad Ever.
At first she thought they were photoshopped. One of those lame Facebook pranks. But the accompanying messages from her friends were real. The group chat kept pinging while Gemma buried her head.
Then, she smelled it.
Coffee.
Oh no.
Gemma whipped the pillow from the bed and in one fluid motion, gathered her infant son from the bassinet beside the bed. She ran through a list of compliments, distractions, anything to keep him from noticing. Dave wasn’t sensitive, per se, but surely he’d be hurt if he noticed the mug she bought him for his first Father’s Day suddenly contained far more digits.
She rounded the corner at the foot of the stairs and was met with a twinkling smile and his big blue eyes. “Morning, babe. Coffee?”
Gemma paused, trying to sneak glances at the mugs Dave had chosen to serve this morning’s brew. He always used it…there it was! But it was facing away from her. Hmm.
“Yeah, thanks babe! Come here, mmm…” She leaned in for a warm kiss, shifting their son to her hip. Her left hand deftly swiveled the cup 180 degrees. Stepping back, she met his gaze and smiled. He turned, and her eyes flicked to the cup.
“Oh!”
“Yeah babe?” Dave half-turned, back still to her. “Something wrong?”
“Nothing! Just trying to pour one-handed. Again.”
Dave made his way over to her, beaming. “You always try, and I always say, let me do it.”
“Yeah, well..”
“Yeah, I know. Dork.” He paused. “Seriously, you ok?” His eyes tracked hers while he finished pouring.
“Yeah, it’s fine. Totally fine.”
Gemma reached for the cup closest to her.
“Hey, mama. You know that one’s mine.” Her hand grasped at empty air as he pulled it towards his face. “What?!” His blue eyes twinkling.
“Nothing. I love you.” Gemma blinked once, twice, to clear the tears that were forming behind her eyes.
“Just let me help you, ok?” He tapped the mug. “#1 Dad. Says it right here.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “Yeah, it does.”
11
u/buffalo8 Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 12 '17
"This just can't be right!" Daddy said with a shriek.
"My mug has read '#1 Father' all week!
Perhaps I may not be the finest alive,
But nine million twelve thousand six eighty-five?!"
\
"But daddy," said Jimmy. "You're first in my heart."
"Shut up, boy! Not now," Daddy said with a start.
And just when he thought that he'd taken his licks,
The mug readjusted: Twelve Ten Sixty-Six.
\
"I'm sorry," said Daddy, a tear in his eye.
"I love you so much, I may even just cry."
But his rank's quick decline was definitive proof
That the mug could with ease tell a lie from the truth.
\
And just as it passed the three billion mark,
Jimmy had his own realization quite stark.
"You don't even like me! You hate me, you do."
The reply: "Don't I know it. You're an accident, too."
\
And finally the number took one final dive.
Stopped just past six billion and seventy-five.
This was the end. He just couldn't go lower.
With each bated breath his heart beat a bit slower.
\
"Oh, no," Daddy said. "Jimmy, What have you done?
You'd better run fast now. I'm fetching my gun.
For surely my rank will no longer appall
If e'er I'm no longer a father at all."
\
And fetch it he did. And Jimmy ran fast.
But finally Daddy caught Jimmy at last.
"Its over. You're done for. It's the end of your rope."
But Jimmy, a brave boy, ne'er relinquished his hope.
\
He swept his dad's leg, never missing a beat.
But as the man fell, Jimmy too left his feet.
The gun so fell too and as all hit the ground
Instinct took over. The whole world lost its sound.
\
The boy grabbed the gun and with little delay,
A clear shot rang out through the clear summer's day.
Looking up from the ground, the barrel still hissing,
He noticed the back of his father's skull missing.
\
The boy fled the scene, spattered blood on his shirt.
He'd expected that killing his father would hurt.
But now it was done he just couldn't feel bad.
When he looked at the mug it read "World's Worst Dad."
3
u/dcbcpc Jun 12 '17
"I'm getting older", Mike thought as he climbed the last flight of stairs to his tiny apartment in a shoddy run-down building in a worse part of town.
As he entered, the familiar site of his tiny kitchen greeted him. He was coming back from a night shift as a security guard, his second job. It didn't pay much and was thoroughly exhausting.
Being a single father was not an easy task.
The kids woke up, which meant it was right about time to make coffee.
He looked at his mug. "Number #1 dad".
"At least I'm still number 1 at something"
2
u/dauntless26 Jun 12 '17
Empty office cubicles drowning in a dreary fluorescent hum sit in a square room. Lined up like an old used advent calendar with all the prizes and joy sucked out of them. In one particular cube an invitation and a stained mug sit near the edge of a desk like old friends would sit on a porch having a chat on a rainy afternoon. The invitation says, "In loving memory of Catherine. March 17th, 2016 - June 11th 2017". And all the tired mug can muster up is, "#1 Dad".
12
u/Ehkrickor Jun 12 '17 edited Jun 12 '17
"I just don't get it," i called over my shoulder, Dad was sitting in the kitchen by the little TV. "How is my ranking so much higher than yours, You were a great Dad to me."
I started the Dryer, 5 minutes, i might have to open it early but it should be fine, it'll be warm enough by the time the show ends.
"There isn't that much difference, they found a #2,294,537,898. It's massive the d and the last 8 overlap each other. I would find that hilarious if there wasn't a kid involved in there somewhere."
"You know what I mean, I learned everything about being a father from you, how are we that different..." I trailed off as i heard another commercial break start. after those 2 more minutes of Show for the "next time" & tv would be done. Gotta be ready on time.
He was quiet for a while, that's where I got it from. During college Dad studied Native American history. He learned that many tribes didn't trust a man who wasn't comfortable thinking silently before he spoke. It's part of what made both of us good speakers, a pause that wasn't verbalized with a 'Like', 'Err', or 'Umm' carried more weight.
"It's part of what you learned that I taught you on accident that accounts for the gap. I remember saying on more than one occasion Do as I say not as I do, You don't do that, cause you did as I said and made it a habit. Also, with what your brother did..."
"Hold on a sec," I didn't interrupt my father often & he knew it was important when i did. I had heard the closing song begin and i wanted to keep the schedule as tight as possible. Routine was comfortable to him. Sure enough he was standing in front of the Dryer when I got there.
"There you are Thomas, it's time for your bath." I Opened the Dryer & pulled out a child size Bathrobe and two towels. The robe was very warm and the towels would still be when he got out. "The water is already ran, be careful getting in and I will be up shortly to help you with your hair." Thomas nodded and trotted off towards the stairs. Dad had just moved back into the area after he retired and Thomas wasn't comfortable around him yet. I turned behind me to walk back & found Dad standing between the kitchen and the laundry room.
"That's why, You've been dealt a hard hand in parenting, Son. You were easy, and i thought your brother was too. Turns out i just wasn't paying enough attention. But you, Your daughter starts college this year, and with that spectrum thing Thomas has; I don't really understand what's going on but I can see how hard it is." He took a deep breath, steadying himself for whatever he was going to say next.
"I know you were down at the prison last week..."
"Dad, he's still my Broth..."
"Now let me finish. You went down there for Justin's birthday in spite of what he did to your eldest. You helped Lilly move past that, and once she did you forgave him." His Eyes had begun to mist over, but he continued. It seemed to me that he had been preparing this speech for long time. Since even before the number changed.
"Me, I haven't seen him in 14 years. Can't even stand to look at the family pictures with him in them. That why the difference. That's why I'm so proud of you. I Look at my #19,864 and i KNOW, that it's all because of you." He was crying now, Tears streaking through the oil from his project car and into the beard he grew after he retired.
"You've got a lot to handle. Home schooling Thomas, your wife always at the office working on the next case. But I see all your family has been through. I look up at that Mug of yours and I can tell you that Thomas, Angela, Lilly, Me, and even that Fuckhead brother of yours would disagree with #364. You're number one, and you always have been."
"I love you too, Dad." I almost couldn't bring myself to forge into that silence. It was too profound, but i had to get upstairs to keep an eye on Thomas. Best to get it over with, like with pulling off a band-aid, just like Dad used to say.
"By the way, I got us Baseball Tickets. Rubber Ducks; I don't know how Thomas would handle a big MLB game, but I wanted him to experience something like what We all did when I was younger."
"I'd like that Jr. I'll stop over early and we can work out driving plans." He turned to leave but stopped short.
"See, that's what I was talking about," he said pointing at the mugs on the shelf. "Yours says #359 now, I brag all the time about your dad mug. I gotta go, want to get home before it gets too dark."
"Sure, Friday will be fun, just like old times. Lock the door on your way out, will ya." I said smiling, Dad tossed a wave over his shoulder as he walked out, He didn't see it, but his rank had gone up too. Just like i knew it would.
7
u/Tuckerbot1 Jun 12 '17
1.
My mug, despite all this time, years after the rankings came out, and I was still number one. I didn't deserve it, frankly. I only gave my kids everything they deserved. The real #1 father was the one working 3 jobs just to take care of his kids. The ones that stayed up extremely late to help their kids with their homework. Those were the #1's in my opinion. I never slaved to provide for my 3 kids, and I wasn't anything special, just a normal person like everybody else. I gave my children an education, I gave them the tools to succeed, but I didn't treat them line they were better then everyone else, and taught them to be humble. So why does my mug say #1?
Hi, my name is Bill Gates, and this is my story.
8
u/onibuke Jun 12 '17
"Did you see all this shit on the news?" Dad asked me, "It's weird, mine didn't change. Guess I'm not that special." He laughed. I smiled.
Dedicated to my late father, who will always be the strongest man in the world to me.
2
u/Mister-Grogg Feb 12 '23
I love this. Thanks for the wholesome smile I’ll be wearing for the next while.
15
u/Rabid_Lemming Jun 12 '17
Ray sat at the bar drinking his fifth beer.
"Larry, I know everyone is talking about the whole mug thing, but honestly, I think it's all a bunch of shit!" he said to the bartender.
"Ray, every single dad in the world got a mug with a number and the word 'Dad' on it. Even the one's that never had a '#1 Dad' mug had one of their other mugs change into a Dad ranking mug. Why are you sure that it's all fake?" asked Larry.
"Because I had one of my mugs change into one of those, and mine said '#1 Dad'. We both know I don't have any kids, and even if I did, there is no way I could have taken good enough care of that kid to be ranked #1. Therefore, it's all gotta be bullshit." replied Ray.
Dubiously, Larry looked at Ray, and finally shrugged. "Ok, Ray, if you say so."
Shaking his head at Larry's naivete, Ray looked around the establishment. "Say, where's Cherry? I want to have my usual VIP dance."
"Ahh, Cherry doesn't work here anymore. She apparently finished her master's degree and started her own company. Seeing as you're her most frequent customer, you pretty much put her through school and paid for all her....." Larry stopped talking eyes wide, and mouth agape...
5
19
u/Sam0n Jun 12 '17
It had been an incredibly difficult few years since Michael's wife died. The sudden loss caused a mental breakdown which took months to recover from. He had to sell the house, lost his job. But at least now he was trying. He could see the world again.
Michael took up a third job for a little extra money, a cleaner. Working late nights after places close up. It wasn't great, but it was what he had to do. One night his company sent him to a dentist's office for a job. Starting in the consulting rooms and then the waiting room, the finished up in the staff kitchen. Getting to work on the dishes, he picked up a mug
"#864,372 Dad? What kind of stupid mug is that to buy for someone?" Not thinking anything else of it, he headed back to the one bedroom apartment he called home.
It was 3am when Michael got home. Heading straight for the kitchen, he boiled the kettle and made himself a cup of tea. It was always this time he would get emotional, the nights were the hardest. Never managing to completely suppress his tears.
He returned to the living room to sit in the dim light of the side lamp. Stifling a sob at the memories. Then the creak of sound as the door to the bedroom opened.
"Dad?"
"Hey Son, sorry I didn't mean to wake you." Michael replied as he wiped the tears from his face. "I thought I'd be home earlier tonight, but I have tomorrow night off so I promise I'll make your game".
"Don't worry about it Dad, I know you're trying for both of us. I miss her too."
Taking his son into his arms and planting a kiss on his cheek, Michael told the boy that he loves him and sent him off to bed. He then picked up the photo he has of the three of them on the coffee table, before placing it back down next to his mug of slowly cooling tea. Reading "#1 Dad".
This was my first ever attempt at writing anything like, ever. Don't be too mean!
1
u/52in52Hedgehog Jun 12 '17
It was fine, but you didn't address why the second mug was special. For all we know, the first mug was just a gag gift.
2
u/greywolf0988 Jun 12 '17
All of the mugs stay the same, except for a few step fathers, because the magic that changed the world was a wish from a child, and so judged from a child's perspective who usually only know one father. Except as you sit looking at the young boy and his cherios, your mug of many years has changed to blank white...
3
u/bearslikeapples Jun 12 '17
I had received seven number one dad mugs already. Curiously enough they all show a seven now. I love it. I could not have it any better. Seven is my lucky number, my birthday is 7/7/77. Seven times I married but luckily the numerology ends there cause I only have three kids. Two lovely boys and the prettiest girl.
I started donating sperm when my fourth wife couldn't have a kid. I had been married and divorced thrice and a big part of those previous failures was my reluctance to have kids.
I was older and more mature when I met Kate, she was truly the love of my life. In a way, my previous wives were an attempt to reach a woman like her and the subsequent an attempt to fill the void she left me with. A truth that is very hard for me to accept.
When we couldn't have kids I felt devastated. I had a strong will (I feel the word urgency is too strong) to be a parent already. She as well. We discussed the matter for weeks, first jokingly and then seriously. Before we attempted we had already put the dream into our heads so the let down was very harsh.
Kate died and I married and remarried. I have three angels of my own that fulfill me with the biggest joy and over SEVENty kids that have filled other struggling couples with that same joy.
I truly don't care who is number one or why, I'm actually more interested in numbers 70, 77, 777, 7070707, and the so many more seveny combiantions available with over 7 billion humans, although I guess not all of us are dads all of us have one.
How, why and who determined the ranking is still unknown. The media immediately started looking for relevant mugs: those gifted to famous people, the actual number one dad, and so on. Me being top ten made me news-worthy. I truly don't mind it very much, I'm just so glad with my sevens.
10
u/chadio3814 Jun 12 '17
Daniel was relaxing after a rough day of work at the office, watching his favorite sports team, when the front door swings open rather quickly and slammed shortly after.
His daughter is sobbing hysterically and runs to her room which he can hear is slammed just as loud. Some sobbing can be heard from down the hall.
He turns off the tv.
Takes a deep breath to compose himself.
And starts down the hall.
He knocks on Katherine's door and starts, "Hey Kath, do you want to talk abou-",
"I WANT TO BE ALONE FOREVER!" she screams at him as more muffled sobs can be heard from inside her room.
He opens the door anyway, slowly, just a bit. She is lying on her bed, crying softly into her pillow. She was still wearing her heels and her hair was curled all nice like, and she was wearing her new floral dress.
"Boy troubles." He says under his breath with a sigh.
He sits down next to her on the bed and puts a reassuring hand on her back and says, "Hey Kath, what happened tonight?"
"He-, he was making out with Tammy" she says softly. And starts another round of crying.
He attempts to calm her by giving her a small back rub and says, "Tammy isn't even that cute, I can't believe his taste in women".
"Dad you aren't helping!" She cries.
"Yeah, I know, I know" she seemed to settle down a little. "Come here, let me cheer up my little Kat", and he pulls her into a hug so she can cry on his shoulder.
"When I was about 10, I had this awesome Pokémon card, it was a Typhlosion if I remember correctly, and I had treasured it, it was foil, fire type, super high attack, great heal-"
"Dad." She smiled a bit.
"Sorry, ok, ok." And he was smiling a bit too, remembering its shine.
"It was beautiful, I didn't trade it for anything, not even for the Ancient Mew. Anyway, I put it somewhere safe. Apparently, I had put it somewhere too safe because when I went back to look at its glory again, it was gone, so suddenly it seemed. I had always thought it was there, with me, but I could never find it again. It was pretty sad, losing something like that. For a 10 year old anyway."
"This is a dumb story", she was getting bored of his 10 year old life struggles.
"Tough crowd", he laughed. "Well, long story short, I had struggled for the next day, thinking about that card. But the very next day, my best friend had traded a shiny new Charizard card for my dumb little Pikachu. He thought Pikachu was the best Pokémon. I never said he was smart." He laughed, and she was just a little confused.
"Moral of the story, I thought it was the end of the world when I lost my favorite card, but just around the corner was a very different card, yet just as valuable, maybe even more valuable than the card before it."
He smiled, and says, "I uh, I hope that helps a little bit, remember that you are beautiful, both the inside and out."
"And that your Charizard might be closer than you think".
She smiles and hugs him, "Thanks Dad, that was a little weird, but I know what you meant."
"Thanks".
And with that, he gives her a warm smile, and goes back to his sports game. His favorite team had lost again, but that's ok, he knows his daughter is feeling better.
He takes a nice sip of his hot chocolate from his favorite #1 Dad mug that his daughter got him for Father's Day and relaxes with a smile, looking at a picture of his wife, the one that is in his head whenever her thinks of her nowadays.
Ever since she passed, he didn't think he could raise his daughter on his own but, today was definitely a victory for him, and he hopes she is thinking the same up from above.
4
u/jdpaq Jun 12 '17
“Shit,” Larry muttered. “It’s changing.” The graphics on the white mug before him had blurred, the black “#1 Dad” text going light, then lighter still before they faded completely. After a couple of seconds the text was gone.
“What’s the verdict?” his father-in-law asked, more concern in his voice than the usual condescension. He stood and bent over the table trying to see anything that had emerged. Fred had softened in the year since his daughter’s passing. He was still a cold man, but there were moments. Moments when he remembered Larry had been dealt a shit card and was trying his best to emerge a winner for his kids. At times, Larry tried to tell himself that the chill he often felt from the man had more to do with the daughter he lost then the son-in-law that remained. Sometimes he even believed it. “Anything coming through?”
“Nothing yet.” Larry set the mug on the kitchen table and leaned over, resting his chin on his hands. Both sides of the mug shimmered, its assessments not yet registering.
Fred hunched over on his elbows. “Larry it’s not an exact science. The Agency will take that into account. This technology is in its infancy. Everyone knows that.”
Larry looked over to him. “I appreciate that Fred, but I’m not sure a government that assesses your ability to parent through these mugs is a government body I’m going to put a whole lot of trust in to make the best decision for my kids.”
Fred stood and went to the sink. He stood there a moment looking out the back window. Beyond, Larry knew his kids were in the back yard. He could hear the springs of the trampoline, the shrieks of laughter he knew only came from the older James double-bouncing the younger Timmy. At 11 and nine the boys were perfect ages. Neither had grown into a supreme asshole as they would once they approached their teenage years, but the childish challenges young kids were prone to were behind them. Larry couldn’t imagine two more perfect kids.
Fred turned. “Do you have your affairs in order? I hate to even ask Larry.”
“I do, yes.”
“And everything is signed?”
“Yes. I signed it all last month before the mugs were issued.”
“And the number is, what? 800 million?”
“I guess,” Larry said shrugging. “They estimate that puts you in the top half of dads worldwide. If you fall below that the Agency gets involved. They take the kids.”
“Jesus,” Fred muttered.
“The news said the range of 400 million to 800 million usually results in counseling. So that’s a silver lining or so they say.” Larry rubbed his eyes, pulling his hands along the frame of his face. He stroked his chin. “Above 400 you’re in good shape. But if you’re below that 800…” Larry trailed off, choking up. He turned the cup searching for some sign of a number appearing. Seeing none, he put his head in his hands.
He’d tried so hard in the last year. His efforts to be there for his sons had consumed everything. His time, his energy, his money. Everything. His job had been threatened more than once as he skipped important meetings to ensure he was on the sidelines of Timmy’s soccer games. He passed on any new addition to his wardrobe to make sure James had access to the latest trendy apparel ahead of the school year. He slept poorly; both his sons often insisted on sleeping in his bed to ensure they curled up in the spot once occupied by his wife. He’d passed on casual requests for dinner from women interested in seeing if he was ready to date again, promising his boys family dinners would remain unchanged. The last year had been brutal, but every day he closed his eyes confident he’d done all he could. He measured the mug before him. Would it feel the same?
Fred walked back over. The chair screeched against the hard tile floor as he pulled out the chair next to his son-in-law. “Larry,” he said, dropping into the chair. “Listen to me.”
Larry dropped his hands and glanced at his father-in-law. He didn’t have much strength left and prayed the old man wouldn’t sap what remained. If the mug went the wrong way, he was going to need something left in the tank for the kids.
But the old man surprised him. “Larry I know I haven’t always been easy on you. I lost my wife before her time and watched the same thing happen to my only child a year ago. I’m a bitter man and I know it. Over the last twelve months you’ve braced against the weight of the storm at times and I’m sorry for that. Instead of giving you shelter I compounded your problems. If I had a mug I know the number coming up wouldn’t go in my favor if you catch my drift. But you need to know something, son. You need to know that in between the pile of shit the last year has been for me, and a lot of years before that, watching you with those two boys out there have been the happiest moments for me.
“I’ve watched you nurture them, shield them from a world that could have easily made them harder, angrier, and instead you ensured that their world would keep spinning normally. You deserve a wonderful life. And you deserve to keep those wonderful kids in that life. Mark my words if for some reason something other than a #1 shows back up on that mug, you have my word that I’ll spend any breath I have left in my lungs making sure that grave error is corrected. So help me God.”
Larry looked at the man in front of him. Fred’s jaw was clenched and his lip trembled. Larry knew he was as serious as he’d ever seen him. He reached out and grabbed the man’s hand. He softly muttered a “thank you,” giving his father-in-law’s hand a squeeze.
Fred’s eyes shifted quickly. “It’s changing, son.”
Through his tears Larry looked at the mug before him. The softest variance between the white cup and a an emerging graphic had become visible. He almost grabbed the cup, but realized he wasn’t sure if that would disrupt the process.
Suddenly Larry grew calm. He realized he’d earned whatever number was about to change his life. Everything he had, he’d poured into his children. Not just since the mug had been issued. Not just since the death of his wife. But since the day they were born. He realized Fred had been right. He’d always been a top father to anyone who’d ever paid any attention. While that might not matter to the Agency, it mattered to him. If the outcome wasn’t how he felt it should be he’d pour all his energy into fighting the system.
Slowly before him, the graphic on the cup took shape. Fighting his initial instinct to the contrary he grabbed the mug. He pulled it to him. The graphic continued to The outline was clear. Larry smiled. Tears welled in his eyes. He blinked them back and stared at the number before him. He choked up. He checked once last time before he put the mug down on the table and cried. And for the first time in a year he did so out of happiness. Life had finally decided to balance the scales in his favor.
After a moment he lifted his head and dried his eyes. He stood and hugged Fred, who he could see had also been weeping. Then he took a deep breath and headed toward the door to spend the rest of the afternoon with his kids and his father-in-law, knowing that while he now knew he had plenty more afternoons with them in his future, today was one he was going to treasure forever.
2
u/farare_end Jun 12 '17
Dad #14. That's what Peter Schmidt's mug read. There were 13 dads out there who were better than him. They were better at the grill, they had better deck-building abilities. Their hair had a better and more classic "balding dad" appearance. There were only 13 of them, but that was 13 too many for Peter.
It started out simple enough. He was perusing the morning newspaper when he found that the number 7 dad lived in a nearby suburb. Peter felt something well up inside him, an instense ball of hatred. What made this dad better than him? Was it his tacky blue and yellow hawaiian pattern shirt? Was his demeanor more dadly somehow? Peter did not know. He only knew that it wasn't so. He knew he was better.
And so he packed a few essentials and set out to zero in on dad number 7. He spent days driving slowly through the suburbs at 6 pm when the working force came home until, after weeks of patient searching, he found him. The next day, dad number 7 had strangely disappeared. Peter's mug read #13 Dad. On to the next one.
23
u/Zmorl Jun 11 '17
The day was turning to evening Thomas observed when he glanced through the window. He turned back towards the computer screen and stared at it with bleary eyes.
Thomas had been running his family lumber mill ever since his father had passed away many years ago, may he rest in peace. He wondered briefly what number his dad would've gotten if he had been around for the Reveal. He didn't reckon that the late belt nights would've earned him any extra points.
His mind wandered away to how the world had changed after the Reveal. It was a testament to the shallowness of mankind, with self-help books with titles "How I went from nine digits to four", reality show like "America's next top dad", and all these smug TV personalities that had gone from being ordinary people to being self-proclaimed gurus. Many of these "gurus" wouldn't dare to touch a mug today though. They might have been great guys back in the day, but their rankings had corrupted them. There was one instance with the narcissistic Donny Drumpf who claimed he was number one, and was gonna prove what a tremendous dad he was by grabbing a mug on live tv. The guy reckoned that if he created his own mug it wouldn't change the number. Brilliant, except that he underestimated the power of the mug gods (Yes, since no one knows how it all happened, we now have people worshipping the mug gods, or rather "The Almughty"), and instead he showed the world what a total mughole he was. It even resulted in investigations to the current world population, as the ranking had been such a high number.
There had been a lot of speculation on who was #1. According to North Korea it was Kim Jong Un, no surprise there. That was only one of a dozen claims. Thomas let his eyes wander to his own mug. It was a classic #1 Dad mug, with the addition of a child's writing that said "Forever the best dad, Sara". The rating on the cup said #1.
Thomas smiled. He turned off his computer, packed his stuff, locked up the office and headed to his car. He drove to the town's florist to get Sara som lilies. She had always loved them.
Once he had paid for them, he got back into the car and drove to a small park. He entered the park and sat down on his knees.
"Hey honey, sorry for being late, hectic day at work today" he said as he organised the lilies on the ground.
Opposite him was a tombstone. It read:
"In loving memory of Sara, our #1 girl".
3
18
u/lazylion_ca Jun 11 '17 edited Jun 11 '17
"It's fuckin bullshit!" yelled Marty. "Look at this shit! It's dropped four points this morning."
Marty refilled his cup from the office's lunchroom coffee pot.
"I don't even get to see my kids til next month thanks to that stupid bitch and her new fucktard boyfriend."
"Aren't they engaged now?" ask Christopher.
"Whatever."
"Hey at least you won't have to pay alimony anymore."
"Bout fuckin time. Bitch has been bleedin me dry." Marty added more sugar to the cursed cup and took a sip. The new intern must have made the coffee again. Never could get it right. That's what you get for hiring interns that don't drink coffee.
"Just last week her fuckin lawyer sent me another damn letter! Sayin I missed another damn visit! I fuckin work, woman. She thinks we're all up here just drinkin fuckin coffee all damn day. Let's see her get a damn job and see how much free time she has."
"Well, she is looking after 3 kids...." Chris trailed off.
"She knows damn well I had to go to Vegas and deal with a client! That's what pays the bills around here. She fuckin knows that! How many fucking ballerina recitals do I gotta go to anyway? Who the hell wants to watch a bunch of kids twirling around in tights all fuckin night! I got shit to do."
"How was Vegas anyway?" asked Chris.
"Fucking Awesome." Marty's face lit up. "Took the client to the peelers. You know that out of the way place off the strip? Yeah you know the place! Yeah, took him there. Fuckin blew his mind! All them girls twirling around on stage all fuckin night! Now there's some girls that need a Daddy!"
Marty's coffee cup ticked down another two points.
Roger tuned them out. He picked up his cup and wandered back to his desk. Sitting down, he pressed the space bar on his keyboard to wake the computer up, but his eyes wandered back to the cup. That damn'd cup! Last week it had been blank. Just an ordinary white cup his wife had given him before...
This week it showed number 2 billion and something.
Bringing up Google he queried "population of earth". The result said 7 billion and change. Rogers eyes welled up again. An estimated 7 billion people in the world and he ranked worse than 2 billion other people as a father. Even that asshole Marty was in the low millions.
He looked at the cup again. "Who are you?" he whispered. "Where are you?"
Picking up the picture of his deceased wife made his heart beat faster. They'd only been married for two years. They'd always talked about having kids. It just hadn't happened.
It'd been three years since the accident. He hadn't met anyone since. Hadn't wanted to.
His hand caressed his wife's face in the picture. Her eyes looked imploringly at him through the cheap glass.
"I'll find her... or him." He set the picture down beside the keyboard. "I don't know who it was, or when. I.... I don't even know where to start."
Tears started rolling down his cheeks. University has been twelve years ago. High School was over 15 years. He couldn't even remember the name of his prom date let alone any serious girlfriends. Had any of them been....
Was he actually a ...?
He looked at the picture again forgetting about the cup for the first time in days. A sense of urgency came over him tinged with hope. His chest tightened. His hands grasped the arms of the chair.
"I promise you. I will find them. I will be the man you married!"
His lips cracked a smile even as his throat tightened.
"I will be the father I was meant ... " he voice cracked and he wiped tears from his face.
"I. Will. Be. A. Father!"
Unseen, the number on his coffee cup ticked upwards.
One point.
2
u/SiXSwordS Jun 11 '17
Feathers! Why are there always so many feathers?
It's hard to walk in the dark. You have to use night vision. Don't look at the lights, and close one eye when you open the refrigerator. Close the left, or the right, but keep one acclimated to the dark. Pee sitting down so you won't need the lights.
They are so little. They used to be. Now, to pick one up, I'd have to use the fireman's carry. Taller than me! Or at least as tall. But I'm not going to wake them up. Let them sleep.
Open the cupboard to get a cup so I can have some coffee. #1 Dad. A badge with a gold #1. Now it says #2 with a picture of poo. You're shit.
'#3 Combination. Is that diarrhea? Maybe just doing both....
'#4 ... I'm losing ground.
'#5 I smelled gin on the soccer coach's breath. But I also noticed the budding breasts under the little goalie's jersey.
'#6 I brought the gun with me. I can protect my house.
'#7 Outside, in the shed. Away from the house.
'#8 Better off without me.
'#9 Temple? Throat? In the mouth?
All the numbers are gone now. You are no longer a father.
Use the pillow to mute the sound. The old pillow grandma used to prop your head. The feather pillow.
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u/replyingnow Jun 11 '17
Mine didn't change, it still said number 1 dad, I was happy about it, who wouldn't be ? I had read about the fuss in the papers and heard about dads trying to get their ranking up. some with success some without.
The big search was on for number 1, a reward was on offer from several large media groups. We as a family wanted nothing to do with it so we all vowed to keep it a secret.
Problems began when a friend dropped by, he asked what my rank was and I lied. Told him I didn't have a cup. It was the biggest lie a dad could tell these days.
He was taking the whole thing seriously because he was down in the tens of millions but was also not well off so like everyone he was looking to find number 1 and get the reward.
Trouble was it wasn't just the mugs, it was spreading to T shirts, bumper stickers, you had to be so careful not to be outed.
We ended up moving away, to a remote place where we could be safe.
We heard on the radio that the wars are spreading worldwide.
We are safe...for now.
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u/bernaste_fourtwenty Jun 11 '17
Ian lazily threw off the blanket and slammed his hand down on the incessant alarm clock. He glanced at the flashing numbers that reminded him of what he already knew. It's 6 o'clock and time to start the day. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and cast them in the direction of the sleeping figure next to him. Ian knew he was a lucky man, but waking up next to his beautiful wife Emma every day made him feel even luckier. Not to mention the two sleeping children in the room next to his that were his pride and joy, his greatest accomplishment in life. Nothing could ruin the way he felt in this moment.
Ian made his way downstairs, careful not to wake the three sleeping beauties in the room upstairs. He began his morning routine by pressing start on the coffee. He then stood in front of the kitchen window and peered out at the vast rolling hills eluding to the most incredible sunrise. In that second, he knew life couldn't get any better.
Suddenly, Ian heard a gurgle out of the coffee pot and knew his caffeine drip was ready. He opened the kitchen cupboard grasping for his favorite mug. Emma, Tyler and Isaac had gotten it for him last year for Father's Day and the mug proudly declared the he was the #1 Dad... So he thought. As Ian began to pour his coffee, he noticed something unusual about his prized mug. It no longer declared him #1 Dad, in fact, it declared him #59836 Dad.
Ian knew he wasn't the best dad, but dammit he loved his children and would do anything for them. The realization that there were 59,835 father's that were better than him made his heart hurt in an unimaginable way. He thought someone was playing a sick joke on him. He took pride in his capabilities as a father. He loved his kids and they were his reason for always trying to be better than he was.
He felt a hand touch his shoulder and knew his wife Emma was awake. He turned around slowly to look at her and she knew instantly that something was wrong.
"What's wrong, honey?" She said softly.
Ian picked up the mug and showed it to Emma and suddenly his sour mood made sense.
"59,836" Ian muttered with disdain in his voice
"Oh, honey." Emma said at a loss for words.
"Yesterday, I was #1 Dad and today I'm #59,836"
Ian slammed the coffee mug down hard enough to make Emma flinch but soft enough as to not break it. That number kept echoing in his head like a record stuck on repeat. Ian ignored Emma as he made his way upstairs to the room where his kids slept and stared blankly at two of the most important things in his life. He was still fixated on that number.
Ian finished his morning routine, kissed his wife and children good bye and left for work. Snaking through traffic, Ian's mind was racing, he couldn't understand what was going on. Ian was a problem solver and this was one problem he couldn't get a grasp on. He was ashamed of his ranking.
Does it really matter what my rank is? I take care of my children and I love them more than anything on this planet. He thought to himself with an ache in his heart.
Ian pulled up to his office and slammed the car door behind him. He was moving, but it didn't feel like it. He grasped for the door slowly pulling it open, as he recalled how happy he felt this morning. He thought nothing could ruin his mood, but here he was, not even two hours later, walking through the entrance of his office building with a heavy heart. He made his way to his corner office and slumped down in his black leather, executive-style chair. He opened up his laptop and it flashed awake with pictures of his two boys and his wife from a camping trip they took just last year. For the first time, since he saw that damn coffee mug, he smiled.
Finally it dawned on Ian and he knew what he had to do. Admittedly, he was a workaholic, but he also wanted to make sure his wife and kids never went without. He's now realizing that he's been too worried about fortune and success than being the father that his kids needed. He was a pretty damn good father but he also knew there was room for improvement. He shut his computer off and strolled out of the office with a plan. This was the most hopeful he's felt all day, and he was gonna seize this moment.
"Mr. Callapari! Where are you going? I need to speak with you!" John yelled as Ian was making a fastidious attempt to leave the building.
"Yes, John? Make it quick, I've got to be somewhere." Ian said with irritation
"As you know, I have a little baby girl at home. This morning, I went to drink a cup coffee before coming and ever since I haven't been thinking straight. My #1 Dad mug now says #35674." John said.
Ian felt a pang of jealousy rip through his heart when he found out his junior associate was a better father than him. He could feel the hurt coursing through every inch of his body.
"What the hell is your point?!" Ian snapped.
"Umm, I- I- was wondering if you knew what was going on. Why did my mug change and why do I feel like such a terrible father?" John stammered in an embarrassed fashion but was totally at a loss for words beyond that.
"I don't know what's going on, but, that's why I'm leaving." Ian declared
"You got one too?" John ask with a tiny bit of hope in his voice.
"Yes, I did." Ian said coldly.
"What did your mug say?" John asked curiously.
"#1263" Ian said straight faced.
A damn lie. Ian thought to himself A damn lie.
John's face fell flat and Ian couldn't help but feel a little guilty for telling the man that trusted him, a blatant lie. He didn't want anyone to know the truth. Not his real ranking. No way.
John slumped and walked away. Ian stood there a bit confused because the look on John's face made it seem like he had more to say, but Ian wasn't in the mood to pry the answers out. Not now, not today.
Ian breezed out of his office building and back to his car. He jumped in, put the key in the ignition, started the car and drove off back home, where his wife and kids were playing. The kids were out of school for the summer and since Emma was a teacher, she too had the summer off. He turned down his street and could finally see his house. He turned into the driveway, put the car in park and turned it off. Ian stepped out of the car and into the house where his boys were playing. Little Tyler ran up to him and wrapped his little arms around his legs.
"Daddyy!!! You're home!" Tyler screamed excitedly.
Ian picked up Tyler and Tyler wrapped his arms around his neck and laid his head down on his shoulder.
This. This right here is everything Ian thought warmly to himself.
Ian set Tyler down and made his way towards his home office. He sat down in his chair and began to type out an email.
*To Whom It May Concern, I am writing a formal letter to inform everyone at the company that beyond this day, I will no longer be an employee of this company. I have neglected my wife and my kids in an attempt to find success. But this morning something woke me up and I now realize that I've been on wrong path and it's time to change that. My kids need a full time father.
I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.
Sincerely, Ian Callapari*
Ian shut the computer off and went to find his wife. He felt happy for the first time in a long time. They have money saved up and he knew they would be okay.
"Honey!" Ian bellowed in an attempt to get Emma's attention.
Emma stood up and walked over to Ian, and she could feel that he had something up his sleeve. His behavior had been quite erratic since the mug incident.
"Honey. We're moving." Ian declared authoritatively
"We're what?" Emma asked with shock in her voice.
--------------------------
5 years later"
Emma snuggled up next to Ian and reflected on all the changes over the past few years. They moved out of their giant house into a wood cabin out in the middle of the forest. It was quiet save for the movie playing on the T.V.
Isaac and Tyler sat on the other couch, and Emma couldnt help but smile; she adored her two boys and all the changes Ian has made have been unbelievable.
Ian felt Emma smile against his chest and glanced at the mug that rested on the mantel above the fireplace.
The mug read "#1 Dad".
Ian smiled, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
First submission ever on this sub so if it's terrible, I'm sorry lmao.
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u/Lucaspetersm Jun 11 '17 edited Jun 11 '17
Blank
Its been a while since Sally left John
And even though he knows she's gone
He still can't help but hang his head
When he wakes up cold, alone in bed.
Joe and earl, what's left of his world
Two young boys, though he wanted a girl,
Burst through the door and shout and scream
Of what they'd seen on the TV screen
"dad, dad, you have to hear!
The biggest story of the year"
And from the living room he can hear
words that fill him with dread and fear
"Mugs tell truths" the headline reads
"we can now say, from multiple leads
And, yes, I swear, you are hearing this right,
Number 1 dad mugs have changed overnight
To tell the truth of how you rank
No matter the money in your bank
Or if in your last job your attitude stank
(oh, and of course, non fathers' are blank)"
His heart in his mouth, the turns to his kids
"There's something I must say" though never did
For they ran to the kitchen though their dad screamed "no!"
And pulled from the shelf the one mug they owned
Scratching and rubbing, surprised and confused
They scanned the china but hadn't a clue
For the mug, all around, was stone cold white
The boys frowned, upset, this couldn't be right.
John, of course, played along
"No worries" he stammered "it must just be made wrong"
But he knew the reason why the writing was gone
For that was the reason why Sally left John.
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u/pier4r Jun 11 '17
Already almost 400 comments, this is going to be buried, but, well, I try. Do not forgive my errors, since I'm not a native speaker. Grammar Police is welcomed.
William had always liked children. One of the best miracle of Nature, difficult to describe. Wonderful.
He came back from work, making a mental note to not forget to give the evening daily hug to his sweety at home, Helene. His daughter, 5, waited with a present, a mug. The mug was one of those having those cheerful but overused sentences "To my dad, you are the number 1".
After the hug, the little one said to him "Daddy, this is for you!". He gave her another hug, a kiss and put the mug over the kitchen table, to use it directly the next morning.
The next morning the mug showed another number. "To my day, you are the number 583,745,382" . He questioned Helene, trying to be as careful as possible: "Did I do something wrong? All ok between us?". After a bit of talking in the family, with Helene denying any problem and receiving some more hugs and kisses, William left home for work.
Shortly after arriving at work, checking briefly online communities, he got to know about the "mug problem". It seemed that "my father is #1" mugs around the world would report the ranking, among fathers, of the owner if the owner was a father. No one knew how the ranking worked, who decided them and how was possible that a mug could change its paint pattern.
William, still skeptical, pondered the situation.
"Assuming that this mug ranking is somehow true. I'm behind the 583 millionth position. How many dads are out there?". An approximated computation showed that around 1.2 billion dads were out of there. So he was more or less in the middle of the rankings.
He did not care to be the first of all fathers, or to be in the top 1000. He cared just to be not bad. He knew that providing a proper upbringing to a child is complicated and trying to follow arbitrary ideas of perfection would make thing worse. Nevertheless if this ranking was true, he was doing a mediocre job. Maybe not bad, but neither good, even though he put a lot of care, love and effort in the relationship with his daughter.
Days passed. While still unexplained by science, the rankings on the mugs started to influence society. More and more stories by the media were done. Celebrations for the top 100 dads in the world were made monthly. Endless discussions were made about "why a father has such poor ranking" on the TV, news, social media and other channels. Also the police and the social services started to check the rankings to uncover possible child abuse or suspicious people that happened to have a family.
Religions claimed the rankings be work of (this or that) God and started to point out certain behaviors as example of "high ranking fathers" and therefore "appreciated by God".
In all this, William had the same ranking, more or less. He was living in a developed country, having an head start over hundreds of millions of other dads in terms of resources and possibilties, still his ranking was not as good as expected. To be in the middle of the expected population of "1st world dads" he should have been around the 150 millionth position. Therefore he was doing even worse than his possibilities allowed.
With social pressure mounting, he started to question himself. Was he really so needed by his family? He started to say "I'm sorry" to his daughter. His wife slowly started to worry, but he denied any problem.
One day he phoned home, saying that he was going to be late.
In the empty office, he looked through the window. 32nd floor, pretty high. Cars or pedestrian looked really tiny from that height. He could just transfer his savings to his wife and help to leave the family in a better situation. He was bringing them down, with his mediocrity. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He was just trying to be lovely. Success for him was not a large bank account, he would be super happy to be able to give his daughter proper values to let her never feel inadequate in this world. That would be success. Improving the society of a tiny bit, through whatever way, that was his ideal of success.
But the ranking on the mug seemed not to approve that. It seemed to say "you may have nice intent, but you are failing". If his wife would have found someone else, that men would likely have a better ranking of his.
Tears started to flow, when he opened the window. Then his phone rang. His home. sigh William decided to pick up the call.
"Daddy! I cannot wait much more, soon I'll have to go to the bed. Where is my evening hug?" "Sure honey, my bad. You will get two hugs tomorrow as compensation and one this evening. I... I was thinking and it took more time than expected, I'm coming, wait for me".
On the way home he thought "how will my daughter accept that I left her behind? She will always ask why, why I left her. I cannot do this. I may be a failure, but I'll be there, whatever it cost."
At home, he brought his daughter in bed. He read her a story. His daughter asked "Dad, have you cried?". "Yes honey, I was thinking about you, you are so wonderful, I'm lucky." and then, after a pause, "I'm so sorry."
The next day William saw his daughter giving his mug back. "Mommy helped me" said Helene. The mug was covered with labels, one could not read the number behind those anymore. "To my dad, the only one that I have. My number 1".
Super happy for the morning, William checked the news in the launch break, as a lot people argued online to be the best dad in the world, showing their mug as proof.
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u/blytkerchan Jun 11 '17
My kids had given me over of those "#1 Dad" mugs for father's day a few years back. I thought it was cute, used it from time to time for my morning coffee (mostly when my "better half" mug was in the dishwasher).
I heard this strange story on the radio after dropping my son of at school in the morning: apparently, all those mugs had changed all over the world to show some other number. I kinda thought it was weird, but carried on with my day: going to work, pick up my younger son from daycare, help the two older ones with their homework, cook dinner, ...
The next morning, my "better half" mug was still in the dishwasher. As usual, I'd gotten up early, baked our daily home-made bread while my actual better half was starting up another laundry, took a shower, woke the kids.
When I set the table, I took my"#1 dad" cup for my morning coffee. Of course, those stories hadn't been true: it still said "#1 Dad", just like it always had...
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u/krysalys Jun 11 '17
Adam sipped out of his favourite mug during his lunch break. His hands shook as he brought the hot beverage to his lips. Grease from his hands made its way onto the surface of the cup, tainting its perfect yellow surface. His back ached in the same spot that it had for years. It had never quite felt right. He remembered the years back, when it hadn't bothered him so much. When he would come home and could hoist little Jennifer up and carry her around the house while he made supper.
The divorce had been hard on him. He hadn't fought it. His first thought had been for her. For Jennifer. He gave up his house, that he had paid off both mortgages for. One when he bought it, and the other when he had to refinance, after losing his job. Tough times call for tough decisions. His old pickup had been sold during the court proceedings. He still remembered when his dad had given him the keys after they spent 4 summers restoring it. He had just graduated high school.
He glanced up at the clock. A little habit of his. It wasn't necessary. He always looked up at the same time. 3:15 am. 15 minutes left on lunch.
When he took the job at the factory, he knew the hours would be long. The shifts were poor, and the conditions were less than ideal on a good day. He silently wondered how Jennifers day would go. She was in her last year of high school. Soon she would be going to college. He wondered where she would go. There was no doubt that she would get accepted wherever she applied in Adam's mind. She was always good at school. The last time he had been able to see her was years ago. That had slipped by him in the court proceedings.
As the last of the coffee went down his throat, he pulled the phone from his right pocket. Its screen was cracked and it had clear tape holding the back of it together. Silently, his fingers navigated to the banking app he kept on his home screen.
Accounts.
Chequing.
Balance. $243.67.
He saw the support payment. -$1800, had been taken already this month.
Transfer.
Chequing --> College fund. -$100.
New Balance. $16,567.73
He closed his phone and put his mug back into his locker. The words #1 dad reflected back at him. Her last gift.
He walked slowly onto the work floor.
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u/Zenoren Jun 11 '17
"Hey, Dad, can I see your mug?"
"You're looking at it."
"Not funny. Your coffee mug, the one that says #1 Dad on it."
"That's hurtful. You'd rather look at a coffee cup than my face?"
"Dad, look--"
"I can see just fine, thanks."
"All the coffee cups with #1 Dad written on it have changed to an actual ranking. Jordan's dad has three hundred thousand and something. Let me see yours."
"Ha ha, April fools day was three weeks ago."
"Four weeks and I'm not joking."
"I know you're not joking, your my son."
"Daaaaaaaad. Ah, here it is."
"So what'd I get?"
"Uh, it hasn't changed. It still says #1"
3
u/realwillwatson Jun 11 '17
"Sounds about right," he said, looking at the mug as he edged his thumb closer to the bright red ICBM button.
"Barron, get that skeleton bitch Eric in here to watch papa's yuge day!"
"Y-yessir," Barron mumbled, dropping his gold Nintendo Switch and promptly exiting the Oval Office.
"That's Mr. President to you."
Donny looks at the mug one last time. His son-in-law, Jared, eyes him from one of the iconic office couches.
"Everything alright, Da- I mean Donald?"
Donald pauses. A single tear trickles down his face. He's reached his yearly cry quota.
"#3,430,978,324 never felt so good."
He presses the button.
BOOM.
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u/lemonpotato913 Jun 11 '17
Joe Mills had a #1 Dad mug, but he wasn't sure he'd ever get the chance to actually be a dad. His wife, Lucy, had had a miscarriage a month after she bought him the mug to celebrate the long-awaited positive pregnancy test.
Months after the miscarriage occurred, Joe was sorting through their guest room closet, which held all of the baby items they bought. He opened a box, looked inside, and had to stop himself from dropping it.
3,062,487 Dad?
He sunk to his knees and called for Lucy. He was finally going to be a dad.
6
Jul 07 '17
As someone who can't have kids, this actually made me tear up.
Count your blessings people. (I know I'm really late to the post!)
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u/ZenPyx Jun 12 '17
Wow. I love the way this is the only dad who is happy for what he has and not his ranking, this was really well written
3
6
3
u/iqqie Jun 11 '17
I have always heard stuff like, "Fathers are the first heroes of their daughters" but then why is my situation the opposite? I laugh at the word hero because to me my father is my villain. He should treat me like his princess but he treats me like his robot. I really want to learn driving but he doesn't allow me to drive. He also restricted me from going on an abroad trip with friends. Apart from this, his strict behaviour with me has made me hate him even more. His strictness has crossed all the boundaries of liberty. In short, he makes me feel that my home is a second name for jail. I am sure jail must be better place than my home at least.
Well a few days back, it was his birthday and i wanted to forget all my hatred for him on that day, so to make him happy i gave him a mug of number 1 father. Last night as soon as i got to know about the bizarre mug changes, i rushed to see the rank of my father while expecting him to have the worst rank. But what i saw completely shattered me and almost gave me a heart attack. His rank was in the low hundreds out of all the fathers. All through the night i kept wondering that how can the worst father be ranked so high?
After investing over 10 hours on this, i realised that it was not my father who was the worst, it was me actually. I always saw his actions in a negative way without considering the love and care hidden behind those. He didn't allow me to drive because in our country it's illegal to drive before getting 18 years old so he was just trying to make me a good citizen. He didn't allow me to go on trips abroad because it was unsafe for me to go there all alone without any elder person being with me and last but the most important factor, he was strict because if he wouldn't have been then i would have not been a responsible girl with great moral values like I am today. Since i always used to argue whenever he used to tell me something in a polite manner, he was left with no other option to make me a better person except for being a little bit strict.
Like all the daughters, I wont say my dad is my 1st hero, but i will say my dad is the best hero I can ever have!
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u/ribblle Jun 11 '17
Since i always used to argue whenever he used to tell me something in a polite manner, he was left with no other option to make me a better person except for being a little bit strict.
The best solution is to win the argument with your 20 year experience advantage. Easier said then done, i know.
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u/Vegan_Moral_Nihilist Jun 11 '17
Chapter 1
"Some are calling it the prank of the century, others believe it to be a supernatural occurrence, and still others call out 'conspiracy'. What is the truth behind the sudden alteration of mugs all over the world? Do they really reflect the rankings of dads? We'll be checking in with spiritualist Dave Connor and skeptic Alfred Hanny as they discuss the matter at 5-"
click
"...he throws, and... touchdown!"
Mark hangs his head after the prison guard changed the channel on the TV. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw Davidson, a man convicted for killing his wife, hit the payphone against the wall, and started yelling, "Don't fuck with me Vincent! There not even 60 million dads in the world, how I be number 60 million and some bullshit? You think I'm some fuckin' shit dad? It's not my fuckin' fault I'm here, can't take care of Marissa..."
A guard responded to the commotion and after several hand gestures signalling Davidson to get off the phone, the guard pressed down the hook. Davidson immediately punched the guard in the face. Several guards from around the area ran towards him, and tackled Davidson to the ground.
A man laughed as he sat down next to Mark, "Wow, man. Hey, I bet you have a bigger number than him, ya know?" The man taunted Mark, "What's it been for you, 30 years? For killing your little girl. And your wife just magically got dead too, but they don't charge you for that."
Mark silently stands up, and walks away.
"Come on baby, don't act like that! Let's say you suck my dick and make up for how rude you're being right now to yo shugga daddy," the man said while following close behind, grabbing his own crotch. He spit at Mark, and then laughed.
Another man, burly with a thick, curly black beard, stared down Mark as he passed by. He jumped at Mark to try to scare him, but Mark was unfazed. When he didn't get a reaction, he grabbed Mark by the crotch and squeezed. The man smiled, his mouth full of silver caps and missing teeth. Mark flinched, but refused to retaliate. The burly man leaned in and said, "You'll fuck up before you get out of here tomorrow, and when you do, you're mine."
A guard rushed over and pushed the man off of Mark. He never shifted his gaze from Mark's eyes. He lifted his hands into the air while the guard pushed his forearm into his massive chest to get him back.
Mark returned to his cell and laid down. The setting sun shined through the inch-wide slit they call a window in this place. Mark closed his eyes early today.
Chapter 2
The next day, Mark was waiting at the gate leading to the outside with the clothes on which he hadn't seen for 30 years. It was back then he was standing on the opposite side of the gate looking in. The sound of the gate opening startled Mark, who was barely standing after his restless night.
Five steps forward and he was free. Four, three... two... one more. He took his final step from the prison grounds, but the look on his face was not the look of a free man. A taxi cab honked to get Mark's attention. He looked up, squinting under the summer sun. He stepped in.
"Where to, Freeman," the driver asked. Mark handed him an address on a piece of paper, and fell back into his seat, gazing out the window. Then his eyes wandered to the front of the taxi where he could see a picture of a small dark-skinned girl posted on the dashboard, and then Mark looked at the cup holder to see a mug that read "#38,384 dad".
45 minutes later, Mark handed a credit card to the cab driver to pay his fare, signed his receipt and got out of the car. "Enjoy your freedom Mark!"
There Mark stood, in front of a storage unit which held all of his belongings from 30 years ago, the only things he had left in the world. He pulled up the large metal door, which squeaked, and stuck. Cobwebs blanketed the numerous boxes and other belongings. Mark brushed away the webs with his hand to make a path.
He knelt down and opened a box with old electronics. He tossed the box to the side, and opened the next box. He found his old gun. It still had a round in it.
Mark set the gun down on a worn and dusty coffee table nearby, and continued rummaging. He found a picture frame. He dusted it off to show his wife and daughter laughing and smiling together. Mark stared at it. His movements became slower and more forced as he set the picture down and picked up a mug from the bottom of the box.
He turned the mug around to see the engraving. It still read "#1 Dad". A tear strolled from his cheek, and mixed with the dust on the mug. The tear stopped abruptly, cradled by the engraving of the number. His head fell, and he rested his hand on the edge of the table beside him.
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u/arnesdiablo Jun 11 '17
I need to know what happened! Why was he in jail?
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u/Vegan_Moral_Nihilist Jun 12 '17
I left hints in the dialogue between one of the inmates and Mark, but I didn't want to say it outright. What's your interpretation?
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u/arnesdiablo Jun 12 '17
I think his wife killed their little girl; he got blamed.
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u/Vegan_Moral_Nihilist Jun 12 '17
I am giddy when an audience can interpret parts of a story for themselves. The story becomes much more than my own, it becomes the reader's as well. This is why I wrote it somewhat vaguely. :)
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Jun 11 '17
Josh woke up to a light snore coming from the other side of the bed. Horrible hair, acne, and an extra 50 pounds were not making this girl any favors. "Fuuuck, I've drank way too much last night", Josh thought, before smiling to himself "I've never slept with an ugly girl, but woke up next to plenty. Lemmy, you fucking genius!"
He got up, and searched for his boxers for a short while and then giving up and settling for his pants. "Cellphone, wallet, ID, still some money left, and condoms? FUCK!"
"Josh, baby, what the fuck are you doing this early?" The fuck came out of his mouth a little too loud, and now Melissa was awake. Her voice still muffled from a long night's sleep.
"Be right back, Mel. Just drinking something!". He wasn't expecting her to wake up. He just wanted to get out and forget this night, hopefully with more alcohol. "I have all the important stuff, I could just get the fuck out. But how do I explain leaving my shirt? Fuck, fuck, fuck. O have no idea how to handle this."
Josh's train of thought stopped when he reached the kitchen. The place was a mess. Left overs of a least three different meals were rotting at the table. Dirty glasses packed the sink. Beer cans were left in every surface that could hold one. Absolutely disgusting. He wouldn't dare to touch one of those cups even if his life depended on it. Searching time, *something * had to be clean.
Going through bowls, plates, and mugs, he found something that he could use. A dusty white mug with the words #675,440,391 DAD. Those mugs were rare to be seen, but Josh instantly recognized it. They would update your Dad Score whenever used. They sold quite a lot in the first few months, but as soon as people begun to notice how much of a shitty parents they were, the antes plummeted. Bruised egos are not good for marketing.
"Holy shit!" Josh thought to himself "This number is high as fuck. Well, at least it explains why it was so easy for this happy little accident to happen".
The mug was a little dusty, and it seemed like it had not been used for months, but it was cleaner than everything else in the room. Josh washed it and filled it with tap water. As he chugged it down, the mug begun to vibrate. As he looked at it, he saw the words:
A NEW CHALLENGER HAS ARRIVED
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u/realnzall Jun 11 '17
"... And to my son James, I bequeathe my most prized possessions, the tokens of the good life I lead and the sacrifices I made," the lawyer solemnly read from Dave Culkin's last will and testament.
"Yeah yeah, I'm sure the lazy git has tons of things to give... I mean, you could probably read from his mug how bad of a father he was." James Culkin said. He didn't love his father, so he didn't expect his father to love him.
"Funny you should say that, James, considering you never saw his mug."
"Shut up sis."
The lawyer continued. "As is custom in our society, James will, for the first and last time, see his father's official ranking, after which his own ranking will appear on the mug."
"Yeah, sure. I wonder how the mug deals with people who don't have offspring."
"Didn't the teachers tell you? The mug turns fully white if that happens."
"Whatever. Reveal the cup."
Gaul Soodman, the Culkin family lawyer, slowly lifted the black lid off the mug. When the lid was fully lifted, he slowly turned the plate on which the mug was placed. One by one, the 3 digits appeared. 4...6...2...# James was shocked. His dad was number 264 in the world? That had to be wrong. Surely this was his sister's ranking. But then the numbers changed to #265, and James knew that he sorely misjudged his father. Even though Dave was treated horribly by his son, James never lost an ounce of love from his father. Both his own ranking and the ranking of his sister were crazily high.
Gaul cleared his throat. "Take hold of the mug, James."
"Give me a moment. I need to process this." James felt horrible. But then he rationalized it. His father never yelled at him, always supported him no matter what he did. Of course someone who stays a true father in the face of constant abuse would rank highly. But what did that mean about his sister?
No matter. A plain white mug would be boring, but he didn't care. His father wanted him to have the mug, so he would take it. James reached for the mug. As he approached it, the black markings started to fade, and the mug started to dimly glow. At the touch of his fingers, a humming sound started. slowly, the mug started to get warmer and warmer. Then, his palms encircled the mug, and a flash of light temporarily blinded the onlookers.
James let go. As his eyes adjusted to the lower light levels, he smiled at the white of the cup. Then his smile vanished. Slowly, small black spots started appearing on the mug. The spots converged and started forming numbers in random spots on the mug. 4...5...1...6...1...6...9...0...8...2.
"James... why does the mug say you're #1,846,961,520?"
"I don't know, sis." But deep inside him, he realized that somewhere in the world, he had a son. And he has never seen him.
But it didn't end there. The number on the mug started jumping around randomly, sometimes making large jumps, but always staying around 2 billion. After 15 or 20 jumps he lost count.
"Gaul, what does this mean? I am not a father. Why does the mug show I am a horrible father?"
Gaul started smiling. "I have seen this behaviour only once before in person. This was with a similar man to you. Thing is, he also didn't think he was a father. However, the mug knows. James, you ARE a father. You just don't know who your children are."
James slumped in his chair. Guess there were consequences to all those wild nights at college...
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Jun 11 '17
It was a bright Sunday morning. Peter grabbed his favorite mug, a present from his only son that carried the moniker "#1 Dad". Upon filling it with his coffee he noticed that the tag had disappeared completely. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at his wife Patricia with hollow eyes
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u/laser151 Jun 11 '17
"Oh my fucking head!" Thoughts were blurrily coming through his mind as the stabbing rays of sunlight sent shockwaves of pain into his skull.
"What did I do last night?". Swinging the waterlogged sponges that used to be his legs over the beds edge, trying to find some semblance of strength to propel his sorry ass into the bathroom to piss. His hand dragged across the nightstand knocking something hard onto the cold tile floor. Something broke.
"Fuck me....!" Hazy memories of the previous night faded in and out. "Number 1....heh", nonbelief still on his obviously hung over mind. "How the fuck, he he?!"
Four years since he left her. She said some stupid shit about being pregnant, how could you, blah blah blah, but he'd had enough. It was time...
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u/-J-D- Jun 11 '17
After a long day at work Jobe just wanted to go home to his family. The near collapse of the Brunswick account had left him feeling like he had been run through the wringer. Despite the total fiasco going on in the office he had managed to singlehandedly hold everything together and even made the time to dip out at lunch to see his daughter play her violin in the spring recital.
He was out of the office at 6 and home by 7 just in time to bath his kids, hear about their day and read them a bedtime story. By the time this was done and he had eaten and spent some quality time with his wife it was already 10pm, almost time to go to bed and do it all again. After the day he had had Jobe decided to take a little time to himself to try and relax a little in order to be ready for tomorrow. He knew it wasn’t good for him but he sometimes liked to have a cup of coffee before bed to help unwind.
As he headed for the kitchen he reflected on the experiences of the day and what a strange day it had been. Many people had not turned up for work that day and he had overhead many extremely agitated phone calls. The explanation he had been given was that suddenly all the “worlds greatest dad” mugs had started showing the real ranks of their respective owners. The whole thing was preposterous and he had ended up carrying the workload of many of his colleagues that day while they dealt with the fallout of this imaginary issue. Jobe was a nice guy and was always up for a joke but he felt like they had taken it too far this time, it had nearly cost them one of their most profitable accounts. As he reached up to open the cupboard for his mug a tiny part of him wondered what he would find there. While the whole idea was insane his co-workers had been so dedicated to the joke he couldn’t help but wonder if it could be true.
He pulled his mug down from the shelf his heart began to race a little. He was a good father wasn’t he? As the mug came in to view he stopped and stared at it. It was the same mug it had always been, “Worlds #1 Dad”. He felt stupid, he thought he had been immune but a part of him had believed it might have shown something else. He finished his coffee and as he was heading to bed he was looking forward to tomorrow when things would be back to normal. Jobe hated april fools day.
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u/my_pen_name_is Jun 11 '17
"Dad?"
"Dad are you ok?"
I stood there speechless for what felt like forever. Up until this moment my life had been what most would call perfect. A loving, caring wife. An adoring son. The irony that the gift from his last Father's Day that brought joy to my heart is now the source of this terrible anguish.
My wife and I have been together for 13 years, and for the most part we've had a wonderful relationship. The spark is still alive and well, but early on we went through a really rough patch. I was working a ton of late nights, she felt neglected and the spark was fading. She decided to go stay with her mother for a while, we didn't talk for almost a month. Well that was all the wake up call I needed.
It took a lot of work but we began "dating" each other again and found that groove again. In fact, things were the best they'd ever been. It wasn't long after Ethan was born. She had some complications during labor and the doctors thought we might actually lose both of them, but the good man upstairs was gracious, and they both pulled through. I'm a blessed man, and I thank my lucky stars every day for them, and do everything I can to show my appreciation to them in as many ways as possible.
So when I got a text this morning about this stuff with the "#1 Dad" mugs actually displaying a true ranking didn't really have me that worried, but standing here now I can honestly say that I didn't see this coming. Each word cutting deeper than the last.. "You Are Not The Father."
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u/Banned88 Jun 11 '17
Father woke up in the morning to find his favorite mug no longer said #1 Dad, but now said 1,000,000,000,000,000,000% Dad. He was quite pleased by this new ranking. Being a dad of this percentage he went up to his children and kissed them all on the forehead before heading off to his white collar job in Cleveland, Ohio.
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u/BansheeRadio Jun 11 '17
"Happy Father's Day, Dad." A mug shaped lump of Sunday Newspaper comic strips thuds on the dining room table. There is a long inhale on his camel cigarette, followed by a sharp exhale. He puts the butt out in the glass ashtray that reads, "#1 Dad!" With both hands, he rips the paper. In his left hand is a white mug with bold red letters, "#1 Dad!"
With a cross body throw, the mug smashes into the wall. The shattered pieces fall into the trash can. He puts another cigarette to his lips. He lights it. His son gets up. It's time to start work. They walk out together towards, leaving the radio on.
This is a news update. Father's Day brawls erupt as mugs reveal actual fathers ranking...
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u/Alicesmadmalice Jun 11 '17
And when I went downstairs to make my morning coffee i didn't look twice at my mug, I'm always number one so why would it be different today? My wife comes down and points out I have a new mug, "no this is the same mug I use everyday." "Then why does it say #666?" Confused and worried I look at my mug, in a panic I shout to my children to come down. "Did you guys do this as a joke?!?" They seemed as confused as I did. I decided to leave it alone for now and went outside to water the lawn. I saw jimmy out there doing the same, he seemed distraught. "Jimmy what's wrong?" "One of the kids must be playing a joke on me, they changed the number on my mug, but won't be honest about it." "Yeah, what number did they put? My kids did the same to mine." "65,381. What about you?" "I got 666." "Well that's not ominous at all." Finished with the yard I had to go to work, driving there all I could think was maybe it's because I'm a beast.
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Jun 11 '17
I wasn't a dad, I bought one ironically. The day the mugs changed, a tiny black hole opened up where my mug used to sit next to my coffee maker. My Keurig and no one in a fifteen mile radius noticed, as they were instantly ripped into the basic building blocks of life, which were then ripped into their smallest components and shrunk down to the size of the void where my mug sat. Within two minutes the entire East Coast was gone. By 6:05am in what had been Eastern Standard Time (before the East Coast disappeared) the entire Earth was gone. As I watched in horror from the view port of the International Space Station, my colleague who had brought his #1 Dad mug with him at the request of his children never noticed. He was too enthralled with why the number on his mug has jumped from 1 to 7,986,922 then gradually back to 1 to notice his impending doom.
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Jun 12 '17
Wait, what the fuck happened?
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u/sp1d3rp0130n Jun 12 '17
The dad mug owned by someone who wasn't a dad made a black hull (god, you forgot a semicolon CHECK UR CODE), and everyone on earth died and the last das alive was on the space station so he was #1.
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u/Seneferu Jun 11 '17
James and Amanda where watching the news when they heard about it. "I wonder which number I got", James said and went to the kitchen. A couple years ago, his son Andrew made him such a cup. As a handmade cup, it was clearly distinguishable from all the others. James quickly found it. "That is strange", he said and showed the cup to his wife. The cup still had the text "Love, Andrew" written on it. However, "#1 Dad" disappeared completely. Amanda looked at him. James could see that she will start crying in a moment. "I need to tell you something", she said.
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u/ChaosDragoon89 Jun 11 '17
I sat in the kitchen seat, knowing that i was getting a mug this father's day. My kids seemed so excited after the phenomenon started. I felt honored as i was being given my official ranking. Although they were already 4 and 5 respectively, i knew i hadn't been a dad long and figured i wouldn't place high.
The kids swarmed in with their little wrapped box and thrust it toward me. My wife, behind my children, smiled just as big as them. As i took hold of the box all thought turned to statistics. Did they include ALL dads or just the ones with mugs? What exactly is the measurement? Just how many dads are out there? Why are my palms sweating? Many more questions popped into my head but they were quelled by my wife snapping me back to reality telling me to open it.
Carefully pulling the bow strings, i undid that which held what only now i feared the most. Slowly i lifted the lid to reveal a large white mug. Taking it out of the box i turned it to see a large hand painted "#1 dad" on the side. I know it's not one of the official mugs but rather one which my kids made themselves. Crying, i embraced them both telling them that no matter what my true ranking was, i was so happy just to be their dad and that they were the most wonderful things in the world. After they left the room to go play my wife sat down at the table with me.
Asking me what i thought of their gift, i responded by saying there was no need to have the knowledge as, to the children, i already was #1. I then got up and made a cup of covfefe in my new mug. Turning back to sit back down i saw my wife already had a cup of her own. She turned it toward me. I could not believe what i saw. There, in her hands, was a mug which said #1 dad. It wasn't painted, it didn't have a smudge, it showed clearly #1. Taken aback i just stood there staring at my wife who had an even bigger smile than when i was given what was in my hands.
I still don't know what i did, but i swore that i would always and forever try to be the best dad i could be. No matter what my mug says, i promised i would strive to be better than i am. That is how i found out that i was the best dad in the world.
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u/whimsyteller Jun 11 '17
Honestly, I always liked the idea of being like my father, he took care of me, my sis and my lil bro. The man raised us three into great people, I always wanted to be like my dad. Sadly, life wasn’t that kind to me, in the words of the doctor as I had a check up on my health…
“There is no shame in it sir, some people just weren’t made to have children”
I know the man didn’t meant anything bad with that, but well, nothing I could do, nothing bad with being sterile…. Nothing bad with that…
My coworkers in the office found out about it, some joke about it, some others just said sorry. One, one decided it would be fun to give me a mug that said “#1 Dad” I wanted to throw the mug and break it in pieces. But I didn’t, no, I simply left it in my desk and took it with me back to my apartment.
I did my routine of everyday, work, cook, rest, and visit the kid in the park. You see I often visited a kid in the park who I played chess against. Kid you not, he is better than any of my coworkers. Kid knows how to play chess, I’m still not sure how it happened. We just started to play a game in the park, I set the chess board and he sat against me. A couple of hours later we decided we would play every day.
I don’t know what pulled me to play with the kid, but in a way, I saw my lil bro in the kid. Robert had always been one to play board games against me, but different from Robert this kid could make me bite the dust. And that is how every day after work I would play with Alex on the park and buy something for him to eat.
I was sure the kid was living on the streets, I didn’t have any idea of how he survived, I don’t think I could keep it up like him. Maybe that’s what made me push the subject and offer to adopt him about three months after our first contact.
The day the coffee mugs started to show the number in ranking of the fathers all around the news were excited to look for the #1 Dad, who could that guy be? My mug changed that’s for sure. It didn’t show a ranking number, in something totally different, mine got white. The porcelain white mug didn’t have anything written in it. Not that I care though
“I’m going to class dad”
“Be careful out there Alex”
The hug of the kid made me feel like the number one dad. Some people aren’t made to have children, but everyone can be a father. Hope you are proud dad, I’m just like you.
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u/Electronic_Arugula54 May 05 '25
I thought it was going to reveal that this guy was the true #1 dad all along, and the subversion hit me like a truck. This is fantastic
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Jun 11 '17
[deleted]
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u/handwritingisfun Jun 13 '17
Very well written! One thing though - can you please clarify the ending? Did the neighbors beat him up because he was better than them?
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u/Shuawuzheer Jun 11 '17
As I cooked my children's breakfast, my youngest came bounding up to me with a big smile on her face. She had made me my morning tea, which today smelled like ketchup and M&Ms. She had put it in my favorite mug and set it next to the stove. I turned off the gas, bent down and kissed her in the forehead. She giggled and ran off to most likely annoy her brother. I start fixing their plates and take a sip from my "#1 Dad" mug.
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u/Prowlerbaseball Jun 11 '17
James was not a great man.
Great men walked up to the world and bent it to its will. Great men looked at challenge and laughed.
James did his 9-5, came home, and sat down. He typically would stand back up a few times, to use the toilet or get a beer, but no more than a few.
His son had stopped asking him to play with him a long time ago, not that James really noticed. It just, stopped, nothing to it.
But then there was this mug.
It was a gift for Christmas one year, a typical 8 year old present, a #1 Dad mug.
But now it said he was #986,800,672.
He looked out the window to the backyard, seeing his son toss a ball in the air and catch it.
He looked back at the mug, then at his son.
...
James stood up. Perhaps he could play catch today.
And the mug, now facing down, ticked down to #986,800,671.
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u/The_New_York_Jets Jun 11 '17
489,231,337
Robert Johnson wasn't a very good dad. He'd drink, and he'd smoke, and when he was tired he would grumble at his kids. He didn't play catch. He didn't play video games. He mostly sat around and got fat after working at the mill. His wife, Leslie, would ask him to mow the lawn and he'd yell at her. His kids would run up the stairs while playing and he'd yell at them. At work, he'd grumble and yell at the new guy more than most. He was just an unpleasant person.
His mug's number changing didn't really help matters. He always knew it was bullshit, but it never really dawned on him how low he ranked. "Christ almighty" he thought, there's only 320 million people in this fucking country.
So the morning after it changed he was brushing his teeth, and staring back at him was a balding, dumpy, unshaved, slobby man in a stained a-shirt.
"When the fuck did I grow so much back hair?"
The hot water of the shower was a poor comfort. As usual, the family was still asleep when he left the house. He resolved to fix things.
So that afternoon he got off work. He had been grumpy but he wasn't a complete waste. He did his job. So he got off and fixed himself up to get some gifts. He went to Toys R Us and bought a few lego sets for his son and some Barbie Dolls for his daughter. He went to the Florist and bought some flowers for his wife. He even went to the barber and got his hair cut into something respectable.
Then he got home early. He tried to greet his wife with a kiss and flowers when she got home, but she laughed. His son took the lego sets and muttered "thanks dad" before dashing upstairs. His daughter glared at him over the Barbie Doll and asked why she didn't get legos too.
Sighing, he sat back down in his chair to watch TV.
A few weeks went by. He asked his son to play catch.
"No thanks dad, I'm going over to Tommy's house."
He asked his daughter if she wanted to go for a walk.
"No thanks dad, I'm going over to Cassie's place."
He asked his wife if she wanted to get dinner.
"What are you, stupid? I have to pick Bobby up from Tommy's house and Jeannie up from Cassie's?"
Sighing, he sat back down in his chair to watch TV.
The next morning he looked at the mug. That same, long number wrapped around the outside. Saturday.
He asked his wife if he could help her. He couldn't. He asked his son and daughter to play, they wouldn't. So he sat back down in his chair to watch TV.
Months went by. He bought gift after gift, flowers, toys, you name it. He asked his wife out to dinner, he bought his daughter a puppy, he played catch with his son... or at least he tried to. His daughter didn't want a puppy. His son didn't want to play catch. His wife wasn't interested in him.
So each night he sighed, then sat back down in his chair to watch TV.
Finally, it was Christmas Eve. He lay awake, worrying about the latest round of gifts he had bought, when suddenly he heard a thunk on the roof.
"What the fuck?"
The thunk was followed by a few others, resolving into footsteps. A muffled crash was heard downstairs.
"Could it be?"
He got up, bewildered, and made his way downstairs. There, in the kitchen, were two masked figures. They all stood stunned for a second, before Robert bellowed and charged in.
He wasn't sure how it happened, but he had a kitchen knife in his hand. One was on the ground bleeding, the other was fighting. They struggled. Robert got cut, deep, in his neck, but he fought on. He was grabbing an ankle, struggling around the floor. The table was knocked over. Chaos. His vision was dark, but in the dim light he saw something; the mug.
He grabbed it, slamming it into the assailant's face until it broke.
He lay there on the floor, bleeding in the dark. The lights turned on and his wife screamed.
A thin piece of shattered porcelain lay directly in his view. As his eyes darkened and the world grew bleary he saw it change from #4892 to #489 to #48 to #4 to #1.
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Dec 21 '21
I finally found it. The one response to a writing prompt that never fails to make me smile. Love it! 10/10
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u/al_bert-o Jun 12 '17
Gott dangit, Bobby!
Brb, I gotta go sit and watch TV with my grumpy dad. What? No, I'm not crying, I've just got a thin piece of shattered porcelain in my eye.
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Jun 11 '17
Sitting at the kitchen table Jacob stared out of the window and sipped a coffee from his "1# Dad" mug.
Suddenly there was a fizzing and spluttering sound and the #1 Dad appeared to melt from his mug revealing a #2,045,834 Dad behind.
He stared for a moment then said.
"Well shit... That's not bad at all." Then he grabbed a rich tea and dunked it in.
The end.
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u/silverlight145 Jun 11 '17
George couldn't understand it. His mom was overjoyed about his father's father ranking, and how abruptly it jumped, and how much higher it jumped. When everyone found out about the mugs, some people bragged, others hid their mugs. His father woke up late on the day of the change, so he didn't have a chance to do anything to stop people from seeing his ranking... and it was a pretty low ranking. Everyone was so confused with it- John was a perfectly good father to George, and everyone agreed. His low ranking made no sense, and most people didn't understand it, which caused people to wonder about how well John treated George. Because of this, George had been getting a lot of strange looks recently and some fairly personal and embarrassing questions. His neighbor, an elderly widow named Mrs. Wilson, had actually stopped him in his driveway on the way to school to ask him one of these said questions. With a look of concern, she stopped George and like all people who have personal questions do, beat around the bush for awhile, and much to George's and Mrs. Wilson's own surprise, she abruptly spouted out, "Has John ever beaten you?" George's face immediately became mortified, out of hurt and surprise that someone would even think to ask that question. Mrs. Wilson, upon seeing this expression, of course assumed she was right, no matter what the boy said next. She would be sure to recall later to her video chat knitting circle how teary-eyed the boy became upon asking this question, and how she always suspected John was actually a horrible person ("You never see him at church, either! What can you expect from someone who doesn't respect God?" Coming from the oldest in their circle, a pig-eyed women who believed all people who didn't go to church were always busy with the Devil's work). George of course told the widow how good of a father John was, and that he had never lain a finger on him in anger, but the old women had already decided she understood, reassuring him that her door would always be open to him. Expecting a far better day to follow, George took off down the street to catch his bus. His expectations died too swiftly upon seeing his friends on the bus, who went silent when they saw him. The rest of his day followed the same pattern.
John had seemed to be avoid the world in the days following the Mug Mishap, always looking extremely guilty to George. George was angry with him, but didn't understand it. He couldn't stand to address it directly and talk to his dad.
Several days before John's mug showed a leap in ranking, John became much more active then he had been since the rankings came out, he went out and started buying toys for a child that was much younger then George. George knew this, because he searched the bags his father brought home. His father then disappeared on a trip for a few days, and during this time his ranking skyrocketed. George grew so excited that he bragged that his father was going to bring him home a great new gift. But when he got home- this was when George became confused. John didn't bring him anything, but seemed far more relieved then how he was before he left. He also now seemed to have a hard time making eye contact with George. Everyone seemed so much more happy, and proud of John that no one inquired what he did on his trip. His Mom even reassured George that it was probably nothing related, and that the proper ratings had just come through while he was away. George anger simmered, because he knew something wasn't right. John started taking more trips, and each time his rating went up. George didn't understand, he saw less and less of John and felt John had become a worse dad. Finally one day after John got back from his trip and George found a picture of a little boy with a note on the back- "You left when he was so young, but he still remembered you. He's so happy to have his father back- and so am I. XO, love Ruby". He showed it to his mom, and he had never seen her go so pale. George's Mom had a massive fight that night with John, and when George got up the next morning, John was gone.
George only saw John again when he came to collect his things, and George's mother refused to let them talk to each other.
Months later, George's Mom found John's old mug, left behind. The mug now looked like how it did the day it was bought- it now said #1 Dad on it. She smashed the mug on the floor.
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u/champ2345 Jun 11 '17
This is sad in more ways than one, I think. His ranking wasn't good even though he treated George well, so does that mean he wasn't George's dad?
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u/ladyrage8 Jun 12 '17
He's not George's father. He had an affair with another woman and got HER pregnant, and left her. He began to become active in his other child's life and left George.
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u/GildedLily16 Jun 12 '17
Well then why would George's mom get mad? If John wasn't his father, then that means she cheated too. And besides, if he raised George and cared for him, then he's his father - regardless of blood.
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u/Spanish_Galleon Jun 11 '17
The mug was in the back yard shed with most of my dads things. I had gotten them when he passed away. It stood there with a big number one on it. I decided to bring it inside, since i had known to me he had been my number one dad.
When i touched it the number changed. I hadn't been with a girl in about a year. I hadn't dated in almost 3. I was a dad.
The number was insanely high. But i didn't know i was a father until i touched it, so i guess... that was fine. It bothered me though. I mean it would bother anyone. 698,589. It was a non-scripted kind of number. The kind you would see on a prison inmates shirt. The kind of number I felt like.
I called Cristina. We had dated for 3 years, i almost popped the question, but then her grandparents died and she said she needed time to think her life over. And we just fell out of touch. She was the last girl i was with.
The conversation was pretty normal. I am good how are you, me too, thanks for asking. But like word vomit it came spilling out of my mouth like a a wet shit on a hot day. "DID YOU GIVE BIRTH TO A CHILD OF MINE WITHOUT ME KNOWING?" The receiver was quiet for a long time. Then you could hear her breathing on the other end in a sobbing tone. "I had an abortion without telling you." I wasn't sure if it was yours, John, I cheated on you. Thats why i left. I felt to guilty."
I knew i shouldn't but i felt relief. Not a dad here. I told her it didn't bother me and hung up after saying we should get coffee some time. She seemed stunned but i was on a mission.
The next number i called wasn't as good of a lead. Tristan was her brother. He picked up, her phone, he asked me how i was, what kind of day i was having, and if i had heard from his sister at all. Told me all about his weekend out cracking cold ones with the boys. There it was again, the bile taste, The acid. "DID YOUR SISTER HAVE MY CHILD AND NOT TELL ME?" He laughed as my voice cracked. then when he stopped he said, "Maybe, I havent heard from her since you two dated."
"why do you have her old number?" Oh she gave me this phone the last time we saw each other. It had her number, but i just told all her friends it was mine now, and kept it. You mean you don't know where she is?"
I couldn't answer right away. Then after a while all i could managed was, "I'm coming over, Be ready for me." and hung up.
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Jun 11 '17
Can you explain this please, I don't really get it lol.
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u/batmal034 Jun 12 '17
I think he had a kid with one of his past girlfriends, but didn't know - they broke up before she gave birth/knew she was pregnant. And he now knows because the mug changed numbers, so he tries to find his kid.
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u/Cloudyday001 Nov 26 '24
“Happy birthday daddy!”my 9 year old little girl exclaimed handing me a #1 dad mug. “Thank you baby”i said taking the mug and giving her a hug. Then i watched as she went upstairs to go get ready for school.That means i had about 10 minutes to make breakfast and find a way to somehow drive her to school without getting late to work for the hundredth time and being fired.I was shuffling through all the overdue bills when she finally came down.I hid them under the couch cushions so she wouldn’t see them.When we arrived at her school and i kissed her goodbye i met the glare of the moms. “Oliver,julia is well i see”a particularly scary one says I nod,before getting back in my car.Hoping now to not only keep my job but also keeping some respect with the other parents.As i walked in to the office and met my boss i doubted it. “Oliver,late again” “So sorry sir,it won-“ “Save it” I watched him walk into his office and my stomach turned.I walked towards my cubicle and when i got there a felt my phone vibrate with a notification.I opened it to receive an eviction notice from my landlord,my heart sank.I put my hand on my head before i saw another notification pop up. It read “Thomson company releases # dad mugs with live updates on actual nationwide standing”.I pulled out mine and looked abt the box,Thompson company.I opened it to see “#97,i smiled i was in to top 100 dads in the us.That was what was important.