Do Whatever the Nice Police Officer Tells You to Do, A Father’s Day Story

My father and I have an awesome relationship. He’s all like “what’s up my little girl?” and I’m all like “you are baba (that’s what I call him) because your taller than me but watch out because I’m catching up because genetics, yo”.

One thing that has always connected me with my father is our very, very strange sense of humor. Most people might not think the phrase the moist tissue farted is funny, but really, that’s their loss. Our endless guffaws at lamp posts, parking lots, and jelly fish  helped forge precious childhood memories.

Yea my dad is cool.

And I’m not the only one who thought so.

In fact, my entire 4th grade class thought so and it was all because of his really cool shirt.

It was a shirt he bought in a flea market, white with bold black letters saying WHOEVER IS WEARING THIS SHIRT IS A POLICE OFFICER. He tried to wear it every time he came to pick me up and all my classmates took an instant liking to silly fake police officer.

Until he began telling his jokes . . .

“And he said it was round! Hahahaha” -Dad

” . . . .”- Everybody

“Come on everyone it was funny! Laugh!”- Dad

“. . . .”- Everybody

“Look! The shirt says DO WHATEVER THE NICE POLICE OFFICER TELLS YOU TO DO so you gotta laugh”- Ricardo Gomez

” Ha ha  . .ha?”- Everybody

My father and I knew the laughter was forced but we accepted cheerfully, it was the closest we could get to being funny. Besides he still had the kids cool approval (kid of like the kids choice awards, basically). After all, we knew that our jokes were just so funny that they just went over everyone’s head.

We would never let a joke go over our head.



Right now, I bet that a lot of questions are crossing your mind. Like, is there a point to this story? What was the round thing in the joke? Why do I dramatically type in one word and then press enter? And who the heck is Ricardo Gomez?

There are no answers to these complicated questions.

I’m sorry.


But there is an ending to this little memoir. You see, about four years later when I was an old and wise eight grader I dug up my dad’s old shirt. I reread it. Then I cut it up and threw it out.

The shirt had a message that was a lot different than I thought.



Lie flat on your back and do whatever this nice officer tells you to do.

Oh daddy!