I Am Your Father

James Proclaims (4)

Don’t be fooled by the title of the post – unless you are my almost-two-year-old daughter, I am not your father. And I’m pretty sure you’re not my daughter because, precocious though she appears to be, she can’t yet read. To the best of my knowledge anyway.

But today is Fathers Day and, as of August 2018, I am a father, so I get to celebrate today. Celebrations appear to largely consist of ‘doing what we always do on a Sunday’. Which is fine. I generally like Sundays.

Obviously there is still, notionally at least, a worldwide pandemic, rendering many celebratory activities largely off the table.

Although my understanding is that the pandemic is basically over. I mean it’s obviously not over, but having made such a colossal mess of everything, the UK government appears to be in the process of sweeping the evidence under the carpet and pretending like nothing ever happened.

So I suppose we could do something to celebrate Fathers Day after all. But I’m still relatively new to all this – it is, after all, only my second Father’s Day and last year I was very much at the ‘rabbit-trapped-in-the-headlights’ stage of my parenting adventure so I can’t recall what, if anything, we did to mark the occasion.

So far today, Little Proclaims and I have enjoyed breakfast together, as is our way on a Sunday morning. Mrs Proclaims joined us this morning, but often on a weekend it is just  the little one and me, while my much-cleverer-than-me wife gets on with studying for her PhD. While eating breakfast we watched a bit of the Disney film ‘Moana’, but, as Little Proclaims currently has the attention span of a lively toddler, we only ever get through twenty-minutes at a time.

After breakfast, I was showered with Father’s Day gifts. They were notionally from my daughter, but I suspect she was aided a little by Mrs Proclaims. It was a good selection, and included things to eat that are bad for you, which is my favourite kind of gift. I did my usual Sunday 4 mile run this morning (as opposed to Tuesdays and Thursdays when I only run 3 miles – I really do go the extra mile on a Sunday), so I’m feeling virtuous and like I probably deserve to eat bad food.

I also got a card, and a really cool Star Wars T-Shirt (to add to my Star Wars T-Shirt collection) as pictured below:

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The card (outside)

 

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The card (inside)

 

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My new favourite Star Wars-themed T-Shirt

I bet Luke Skywalker didn’t send a card either…

James Proclaims (4)

Disclaimer

In the 363 words that follow this disclaimer, there are:

210 words of insincerity for comic effect, 22 words of heartfelt sincerity and 131 words of something else.

End of disclaimer

First things first. It’s Fathers Day today and I’ve forgotten to send a card. So if you’re reading this Dad:

Happy Father’s Day!

Frankly if you’re not reading it then it’s not my fault you didn’t get the message. If anyone should be reading these pages avidly it’s you. You’re my father. If you don’t support my endeavours, however misguided they may be, then who will?

But I’m sure that’s not an issue.

Mum will make you read it.

Unless she isn’t reading this blog either.

Which is distinctly possible. I can’t even remember if you’re in the same country as me at the moment or if you’re in rural France with no internet access. I know you were in rural France last weekend. Did you come back? Am I bad for not knowing or should you have told me?

Well enough members of my family do read this occasionally for me to be fairly confident that you’ll get the message sooner or later. What was the message again?

Oh yeah.

Happy Fathers Day!

Although to be fair it’s clearly just a made-up ‘holiday’. It’s not even a holiday at all. We always get Sunday off. Except for people who work on Sundays. But they’ll still have to work today probably.

Nonetheless, the important thing is that I love you Dad, and I hope you’re having a nice day regardless of the date.

As well as it being Father’s Day, it’s a also a day of personal triumph for me. Today is my 30th blog post in 30 consecutive days.

To be clear this is actually the 39th post in the 43 days since I started this blog but the last 30 posts have been written in a time frame of 30 days and apparently that’s a ‘thing’ in the world of blogging.

Yay me!

It hasn’t all been gold.

But it’s quantity rather than quality that matters right?

Or have I got that the wrong way round?

I have, haven’t I?

It wouldn’t be the first time I misread an idiom.

Who can forget that art project I did? The one when I attempted to make a picture out of a thousand words…