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Sunday, June 18, 2006 

On Father's Day

Today it is Father’s day. Well, in ten minutes time I shall have to change that to “yesterday was father’s day”. But we’ll ignore that. I think that my family is rather retarded. And not just for the many reasons that I have stated in here previously. Father’s day is supposedly a big deal. It is something that is important and wonderful in that Brady Bunch candyfloss ideal family type way. Which would explain why, as a family, the whole thing went right over our heads.

My mom can be left out of the name and shame as she lives in New York where they celebrate it on a completely different day. And also, she doesn’t particularly like my dad so wouldn’t wish him a happy anything anyway. Unless it was something like an enjoyable eternity with Satan, or a nice disfiguring disease.

I’m not sure if I’m allowed to put my dad on this list. He didn’t realise that it was Father’s day, even when my brother phoned up to wish him it, and only worked it out when I came confusedly into his room and said so. But I guess that’s allowed as he’s a) completely ditzy, b) naturally blonde, and c) senile. Plus, he was the one meant to be receiving thanks and presents and stuff rather than remembering to remind his children to remember it. Too many “rem”s in that sentence…

My brother probably comes out best. He gets the credit of actually knowing what day of the week it was; that as well as it being a Sunday, it was also fathers day; and he phoned up and wished Dad a happy father’s day. Basically the perfect son. Well, minus the present and card that are generally acknowledged to be compulsory. However, even though quite obviously he is wonderful, when he did phone up, he managed to confuse my dad into thinking that it was Father’s day in South Africa rather than here. This, I feel, is a rather astonishing feat as I have no idea why anyone would wish to phone up and say, “Hi, in South Africa it’s father’s day, so Happy fathers day!” when both the father and son live in England, and I am pretty sure neither actually know anyone who lives in South Africa. Or have ever been there.

It took me till half way through a conversation with Stacey to realise that it was Father’s day. She had been talking for a while about the great present that she’d bought her Dad, and when I inquired as to when exactly father’s day was, she told me rather disbelievingly that it was today. To sum up: Bugger. I had neither card, present, nor way of somehow making myself look semi-decent as a daughter. It had gone eleven o clock at night by that time, and he was already in bed.

My sister is in bed, and as she hasn’t mentioned anything about it today, and earlier was asking me what day of the week it was, (she thought it was Saturday), I would assume that she was as clueless as the rest of the clan.

So out of all five of us we have:
    a) One sleeping father who is still a bit confused as to whether it’s father’s day in South Africa, here, or both.
    b) A relatively useless son who did phone up, but didn’t actually succeed in getting it across to my dad what the point of him phoning up was.
    c) Me who at least managed to inform him of the fact, and also that I was wishing him a good one. For the whole half hour that he had left.
    d) My sister asleep.
    e) My mum who wishes him dead.
Overall, I would say that this was pretty typical family holiday and I hope that we have many more just like it. For one thing, it’s much cheaper than actually remembering, and having to go to all that trouble of card and present buying, and then having to pretend that I like my dad for a day.

Bring on Father’s day next year. I look forward to it.


I can't keep track on either of these days - Fathers Day or Mothers Day, even tho I'm a mom myself. My family is spread out, so if it wasn't for my partner who is a dad, yesterday would've past by like any other Sunday.
It used to be a lot easier in the past when the family was gathered in one country ;)

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  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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