There were three in the bed and the little one said: “Sorry Dad, there’s no room for you.”

Well, in fairness, she didn’t. She was asleep. When Mrs Proclaims and I first took hold of the keys to Proclaims Towers in 2013, we made the questionable decision to further reduce what little space we had in our undersized abode by purchasing a king-sized bed, to ensure we’d always have enough ‘stretching out’ room. Apparently though, a four-year-old can take up a lot of surface area. And our bed is not, it would seem, big enough for three people. A mathematician would disagree, no doubt, and I’m quite sure the maths should dictate that if Mrs Proclaims and I can comfortably occupy a standard-sized double bed, then Mrs Proclaims and I should be able to welcome our youngest child under the covers of a king-sized bed and still all sleep soundly.

Logic goes out of the window with four-year-olds, though, and I found myself firmly and ignominiously dispatched from my bed this morning.

Incidentally, today (which at the time this post goes live will be yesterday) is Father’s Day in the UK. I have held the requisite qualifications to be a beneficiary of the day since August 2018, when Little Proclaims entered my world. I consolidated my credentials in April 2022, when Mini Proclaims joined us for the ride, and it was the latter who felt that I had had enough time in the land of nod. Which I hadn’t, really, but she was not wrong to wake me, as the first task of the day was to take her to her unreasonably early swimming class.

She woke me up in good time for this, but alas, was not fully committed to consciousness herself. So by the time I had cajoled her into abandoning what I still laughingly refer to as ‘my side of the bed’, we managed to be late. Fortunately though, we did still make it in time for the first song. I’m not entirely sure what singing has to do with swimming, but we are still at the stage with Mini Proclaims where the two activities are inextricably linked. Little Proclaims used to attend the same class when she was that age and she’s a pretty good swimmer now, so I’m sure it helps. I just can’t quite work out the science.

In our haste, I forgot to pack a towel for myself (singing-swimming being very much a parent-and-child activity, whereas the “just swimming” that my elder child does requires no getting into the water for me), which was not as big a problem as I feared it might be, as it is a hot day and Mini Proclaims’ towel was adequate to render both of us dry quite quickly. There’s not a huge amount of dignity to be had when drying oneself with a hooded unicorn themed towel, but the other dads were far too preoccupied with their own lively offspring to pay me much heed.

Back home and a quick turnaround, for then it was Little Proclaims’ turn to accompany me to a different part of the same venue I’d just attended with her sister, as we did our Sunday morning martial arts class together. Little Proclaims doesn’t always come to the Sunday class, as there are four options available throughout the week and she generally prefers to come on a Friday. This week, however, was her grading week, and, if she wanted to get her coveted yellow belt, she needed to come. As a more senior student, both in age and ranking (mainly age, though), I wasn’t participating in this grading, so the class was split in two, with the rest of us being subjected to what felt like quite a brutal workout for such a hot day. So blinded by sweat (and quite possibly tears) was I that I missed my eldest child’s performance, but the congratulations she received at the end of the class would suggest she will be getting a new belt soon.

A quick change and we drove to Tesco (I never like walking around the supermarket in my martial arts get-up—I find it to be something of a conversation starter and I’m far too misanthropic to encourage that kind of behaviour) to do part of our weekly shop. The rest of the weekly shop was being delivered by the same retailer, due to an admin error on my part. I like to advance-book the slot in order to make sure it comes at a convenient time, but that does necessitate remembering to go back onto the website the day before delivery is due to ensure that the order reflects what we actually need. I forgot to do this in time, although annoyingly did remember on Saturday night, just late enough that when I logged back into the app, I saw I had exactly 1 minute and 15 seconds to amend my order before the time ran out. And while that almost exactly mirrors the bit in many an action movie when the hero has to disarm a bomb, my inner John McClane abandoned me and the metaphorical explosion of an incomplete delivery order resounded.

Little Proclaims and I whizzed round the shop in record time. We are normally accompanied by Mini Proclaims on these outings, and her absence definitely aided the speed in which we were able to hurl things into the trolley, pay for it all, and leave.

We returned home in plenty of time to meet the scheduled delivery, only to discover that Tesco had arrived prior to the agreed slot and Mrs Proclaims was already putting it all away. It isn’t really on for Tesco to deliver outside of the pre-booked one-hour slot, but I suppose they might also claim that it isn’t really on for their delivery drivers to be stung by overgrown nettles, which is what happened last week (and indeed, was the inspiration for last week’s post, which you can—and should—read by clicking here).

Having put the shopping away, I then proceeded to make everyone lunch. We have our main cooked dinner on a Saturday afternoon these days (as I wrote about in this post), but we still like to sit around the table together on a Sunday, albeit it’s more of a light lunch. We still have dessert, though, and Mini Proclaims’ speed of consumption is slow whether it is a roast dinner or a sandwich. So dessert was again slightly delayed.

Which largely brings us up to me sitting in front of the computer writing this.

There was a brief interlude between the swimming lesson and the martial arts lesson, in which I was given some Father’s Day gifts. Which were definitely chosen by my wife and not by my offspring, although they were happy to take the credit. Mini Proclaims apparently did have some input into the bag of jelly babies, and I’m sure she was not at all motivated in her choice by the fact that she quite likes jelly babies.

There were some homemade cards. One from Little Proclaims, and three from Mini Proclaims.

Other than that, Father’s Day has felt much like any other Sunday. Although to be fair, with my kids, every day is Father’s Day. And I wouldn’t change a thing.