Father’s Day – Getting up at 6.30am feels different today

16 Jun

I suppose Father’s Day in years to come will include breakfast in bed and a sports DVD as a present. But at this age, no chance. Who cares? Time is too precious, too magical.


There’s supposedly a ‘backlash’ in America at the moment against the portrayal of fathers as bumbling incompetents: http://edition.cnn.com/2012/06/12/living/dumb-dad-stereotype. I wouldn’t like to pronounce on the subject but, to borrow Bush Senior’s phrase, my household is probably more like the Simpsons than the Waltons.

I am not sure who my daughter will become. She was rather impressively dribbling a football yesterday that we found in the park. Or maybe she will go into theatre. I took her to the Tricycle last week, the brilliantly political theatre where I sometimes volunteer. Looking at our endless reflections in the mirrors in reception it seemed like she could well get used to it. She certainly enjoyed making mud pies as part of the performance.


But who cares what she will be like one day? All I know is that at the moment there is no one in the world I’d rather be with. My heart jumps every time I see her. Even though this morning I caved in and put her in front of CBeebies so I could make breakfast, I hope that today, and in the years ahead, we will spend plenty of meaningful time together….

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