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My second Father’s Day, but my wife wasn’t all that well and I won’t celebrate Father’s Day until there is a female equivalent, so I didn’t get breakfast in bed (my wonderful wife is going to take me out for breakfast when she’s feeling better) and did the early morning shift with my daughter. But what better way to spend Father’s Day than with the brilliant human being without whom I wouldn’t have this status (when will there be a children’s day? - apart from June 1st). My daughter and bought me a card, which was pretty impressive which said “To My Fantastic Dad”. I have to admit I was disappointed though. I thought I might get the Best Dad in the World nod this year. I guess I got complacent because I am so good at doing round and round the garden and didn’t put the work in in the other disciplines, like actually engaging with my daughter on the 6am-8am shift instead of sticking on CBeebies. But when I mentioned it there were quite a few counter claims for the Best Dad Award and a couple claimed to be the Best dad Ever and another was best dad in the Universe. I guess the title is a bit of a laughing stock until one organisation is recognised as the ultimate authority.
I did a lot of great work on getting ahead of next year’s title though, if you ignore all the CBeebies and secretly lusting after both Funella from the Furchester Hotel and Topsy and Tim’s mum. What a threesome that could be. Technically a five some as Funella’s puppet operator and voice artist would have to join us.
We had a lovely afternoon celebrating the fatherhood of myself and my father-in-law at my wife’s parents’ house. There was a bubble gun which was awesome and a dog to throw balls for and plenty of room for chase in the garden. And when I tried to fall asleep on the grass my daughter kindly came over to wake me up by attempting CPR. I had been firing bubbles into her face earlier (accidentally) so maybe I deserved it.
I know I am not the best dad but I reckon I am in the top billion and that’ll do for me. She does many cute things. The best one at the moment is that after her bath she is aware of the procedure. I take her back to her room, dry her hair and then moisturise her skin. She tries to preempt that by grabbing the moisturiser bottle and trying to put it on herself, so I’ve taken to give her a little bit on her hand, which she usually rubs into her tummy as I do her shoulders and limbs. But she’s a caring sharing kind of person and so the last couple of days she has decided to return the favour my putting the moisturiser on me. Unlike her, of course, I have clothes on, so this means she just smears moisturiser over my shirt or jumper. Which could be annoying. But she means well. So it’s just funny and lovely and I have to thank her for wrecking my clothes.
Dads don’t need a day. Every day is like winning an award when you have a tiny idiot to look after. As long as you’re imagining orgies involving of age CBeebies puppets and actors.
