In China they celebrate Father’s Day on 8 August. The number 8 in Chinese is pronounced ‘Ba’, and the colloquial term for father in China is ‘Ba Ba’; so the 8th day of the 8th month actually sounds like the Chinese pet name for ‘Daddy’. I like that
Yeah, I know, it’s been a while. I haven’t blogged since just after the boy was born in January when for 2 Minutes he didn’t make a sound. Horrible, unwelcome moments. To be fair, he hasn’t stopped making sounds since then so maybe, in hindsight, he was just pausing for a long breath before he embarked on his continuous stream of squeaks and gurgles in his obvious attempts of telling us all his stories. Owing to his limited life experiences thus far I can only assume the content of those stories are detailed descriptions of the inside of M.o.M’s ‘Twinkle Cavern’.
The reasons for my lack of blogs are many fold. Laziness, tiredness, drunkeness… But the main defence for the absence of content has probably been my increased use of Instagram and therefore being exposed to just how many bloody parent blogs there are out there. It’s unbelievable! Quite a few of them seem principally set out to try and make money or get free shit which, the morally condescending voice in me finds distasteful. But let’s be honest, the main voice in me finds it irritating as I have no way of doing that with this blog because, and this is the capper, who wants to sponsor a middle-aged man’s accounts of his failings as a stay at home dad?
Bollinger? Fender? Aston Martin?
So, it’s Father’s Day today. A 100 year or so old tradition originating in Spokane and now taken on by countries around the world to appreciate (spoil) the Father of the house. It’s a lovely gesture and social media is awash with tributes to Dad’s alive and not. It’s telling, however, that when googling Father’s day, quite near the top of the list is an article on ‘How to celebrate Father’s Day when your child’s Father is not in their life’. Yes, for all the modern Dad’s/Man’s improvements there are still a lot of twats out there.
What was my present this year? I got an afternoon to go drinking and to watch Guns n’ Roses at the thoroughly horrible Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park. Slash was awesome, Axl was fat, Duff looked younger and the sound was amazing. What with The Stone Roses playing Wembley on the same night it would surprise me if there were any white middle aged men left in the home counties at all last night. It must have been a very quiet, empty place devoid of any DIY. I wonder if all the pubs cashed in and held ladies bingo nights? (I assume that’s what you girls do when you get together? That and talk about lingerie and boobs, right?)
I lay in bed this morning to the sounds of Moo playing with her Mum and her Godmother downstairs. I showered, dressed, made myself a coffee in the kitchen and went into the garden with the hopeful heart of a loving father ready to be greeted by his adoring daughter. Not quite how it happened… She hasn’t spoken to me in the 3 hours I’ve been up. She’s angry with me for going out yesterday. Great.
So, I guess my real reason for only writing a blog now after a 4 month absence is I have nothing else to do right now. I’m not being nagged. I’m not needed. Father’s Day sucks balls