Jason was freaking out as he headed outside to the parking lot. Was his dad really telling the truth? Or was he just messing with him? He couldn’t tell. 

Growing up, his father hadn’t really been around, almost always being at work, leaving before Jason woke up in the mornings and coming home after he’d already gone to bed. The only guaranteed days that Jason saw his dad were on his mother’s birthday, his parents’ anniversary, and Sunday mornings for church. But they always went in separate cars, for his dad had to leave as soon as it was over to get to work by 12:25. 

Jason’s own birthday was not included as one of those given days his father was home. Three years in a row, his father hadn’t been home on his birthday. The first time, on his 11th birthday, he had gotten Jason a present and a card that wished him a happy birthday and an apology, which made it slightly better. The second time, on his 12th birthday, his father had wished him a happy birthday a day late, with a card and an apology. And on his 13th birthday there was nothing until two weeks after his birthday. His father had promised he’d never forget again. 

Jason had complained to his mother that his father didn’t really care about him, and would rather be at work than see him. But his mom would always give him the same answer; “Of course he cares about you! Your father’s just a busy man is all.”

When his father was home, he’d try to bond with Jason, trying to joke around and tease him, but eventually stopped trying to build a relationship with him. Jason tried not to care.’What’s the point in wanting to build a relationship with him when he can’t even remember his own son's birthday?’

One day, over three months after his 14th birthday, Jason and his mom were talking in the kitchen while his mom was washing the dishes. He had been complaining about how his father didn't care for the fifth time and she gave him the same answer. But he was tired of it. “Sometimes I wonder not having a dad at all is better than having a dad who always puts his work before his own son.” He said bitterly. 

His mother gasped in shock. “Jason! How could you say such a horrible thing like that about your father?”

“Well it’s true! Can you not even see it!?” Jason yelled angrily. “He only really cares about you! He’s never missed your birthday or your guys’ wedding anniversary! And yet somehow, he’s managed to miss my birthday four years in a row. And he’s even forgotten what day of the year I was born three times!” 

“Oh come on! He’s only missed your birthday four times and he’s only forgotten the day twice-” His mother had started to say, but Jason cut her off.

“Oh, and that’s s’posed to make me feel better? What kind of dad forgets his own child’s birthday? Oh, I see. He must've been too busy working the day I was born, huh? Was that it?”

“Jason, I really don’t like your attitude-” 

“You know what, Mom? I don’t even care. I’m going to my room.” He said. He started to leave, then stopped halfway through the walkway to the living room. “Oh and Mom? You’re wrong. Dad hasn't forgotten my birthday only three times. It’s been almost four months and I still haven’t gotten a card, let alone a happy birthday from him. He hasn’t even talked to me in over five months.” Then he left the room, leaving his mom in the kitchen by herself.