Brooklyn Beckham Needs to Grow Up

There’s a dad out there who I think about sometimes. Not my dad, to be clear; just a dad—a man I’ve never met, whose existence I’m only aware of because of a Reddit post written last year by his adult daughter. The post was a litany of complaints: This man was selfish, the daughter said, and flaky, and a bad husband to her mother. But the last straw, the thing that really got her goat, was the socks. Every year for Christmas he would get her socks as a gift; he thought it was funny, a sort of self-deprecating joke about his lack of gift-giving skills specifically and his shortcomings as a father in general.