Sunday 19 June 2011

Happy Father's Day.

I've been without a dad now for 29 years as he did the dirty on me and passed away when I was 18.  So really, I've never known what it's like to have a dad when you're an adult - only as a child - and I'll always be my Daddy's little girl.
Thankfully, I was blessed with the best dad in the world and I'd like to take the time today to share my memories of him and to say "Happy Father's Day, Chic!"

I remember:
You had the best sense of humour and could make anyone laugh - from consultants in hospitals to cashiers in supermarkets.  You knew a joke on every subject and loved to have word-play competitions with your friend Reg to see who could push the pun furthest.

You'd pass wind whenever or wherever you needed to - highly embarrassing in an enclosed lift but it amused you no end.

You were a teetotaller and didn't need alcohol to be the life and soul of the party.  You were known for asking your host if they had any hot water and, when they replied that they did, you'd instantly ask them to stick a tea bag in it.

You'd "blow your top" if a decorating job was causing you troubles but you had the patience of a saint with your daughters.  I can still see your huge hands struggling with tiny stitches around the neck of my Daisy doll's wedding dress you were determined to finish for me because she was getting married the next day and I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

You bit a Yorkshire terrier on the bum because it attacked our Prince (who was a mongrel but you insisted on telling everyone he was a "Russian Sakuli" - your own invention) and then spent the next hour pulling fur out of your teeth.

You were a hard-working family man who thought the world of his wife and kids and always wanted the best for them.

You bought the best Christmas presents - a gold and white Bontempi electric Organ, and a doll's house with dollies and clothes.  But the best doll's house was the one we made together from matchboxes and scraps of cardboard, complete with plasticine fruit and plates of food.

You loved Dean Martin, Jim Reeves and Bill Haley & the Comets but you hated musicals.  "Bloody breaking out into song at the drop of a hat!"

You were a perfectionist when it came to decorating but were famous for short cuts in other ways - the quick fix!  My tortoise kept running away so you drilled a hole through his shell and tied a piece of elastic through it!?  And my mum's yukka tree in the conservatory wasn't looking its best so you decided to varnish the leaves.  Needless to say, it was starved of CO2 and died.

And I can never listen to the closing music of "Upstairs Downstairs" without hearing you sing along "I think it's time for you to go to bed now."  My Saturday night treat, being allowed to stay up late and watch our favourite programme.

So Dad, on Father's Day, I thank you for being the best a girl can have and I'll meet you where I said I would.  OK?  In the meantime, every time I see a rainbow, I'll admire your decorative handiwork.

My novel, Diary of a Mummy Misfit is on Amazon for Kindle.

Now also available in paperback at Lulu.
 

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