Dear Dad,
You know I love you, good grief. You're one of my most favorite people on this planet. Growing up you were the absolute best. True story. I have various friends who would gladly vouch for me...With that said...
Dad, dad, dad. Listen. I completely understand that making drinks is not an art form. I do. Truly. And your effort at making Margaritas tonight deserves no less than an A. I mean that, Dad. From the bottom of my heart. So when you told me that you made a (valiant, really and truly) effort to water these down with Margarita mix I believed you, Dad. I believed you because I've never known you to lie. And it's not that I think you lied, Dad. Oh no, I saw the truth in your eyes when you said those words. I know now that you honestly believed it yourself. But lie you did, Dad. I was shnockered within the first few sips. And I don't use that word lightly, Dad. When I say it, I mean it. So, with nothing but love in my heart I say to you of your effort to make, "watered down margaritas" was an epic fail. Epic. Fail.
But dad? Rest assured that all was not wasted. They were delicioussssss.
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