Father's day card...

I slipped off and bought my dad his father’s day card this morning. I know, well somebody has to be my dad. Anyway, somehow and for some reason fatherhood has been on my mind a lot recently and buying that card started my brain going places I really don’t like to go and it started me thinking about fatherhood; me and fatherhood. Not becoming a father in having children terms I hasten to add, I’ve done that, but just being a father in general. You see the thing is after years of pretending I’ve come to realise that I’m really rather rubbish at it. Oh, I’m sure I’m not the worst father in the world but I must be in the lower quartile on the ideal father percentage scale. No, I’m no George Bailey I’m afraid - it just doesn’t come that naturally to me and if I’m really honest I’ve always known that.

Of course, I’d stand up for my children if they were falsely accused or unfairly treated – I’ve done that and always will. But I can’t simply support them when I think that they’re wrong and I don’t think I could love them unconditionally no matter what. 

I’ve often wondered how the parents of terrorists, murderers, child abusers, drug pushers, and all the rest of the riff-raff feel about their offspring. I’m incredulous at the ones who try to justify their offspring’s actions, or simply don’t believe that they’ve done it despite absolute proof. My children aren’t any of those things, but we all have our moments, and if they ask my view, back me into a corner or follow a path I can’t agree with… well, that’s when I become a rubbish father. Father’s you see should comply and I can’t. I can't be a puppet or a fool, not even to please my children. Oh, I know that the problem’s mine, an ideal father would do what ideal father’s do and make it all better - play the puppet, play the fool, but not me.

I can't. I don’t.

Thing is as well as being a father (warning - excuse, excuses, excuses) I’m a person too and (believe it or not) full of all the stuff that people have inside them. The stuff that makes them ‘them’ and the stuff that makes me ‘me’ – good and bad, warty warts and all – but maybe if I just ignored it and filled myself full of ‘father’ stuff then I’d be a better father – but where would me be?

How selfish of me to want to be me.

By way of confirmation a certain someone snarled at me this morning: ‘You need to work out what you are doing.” And yes I do, (big cigar for the girl with the pink hair). You blew my cover.

Yes. Indeed. I. Do.

I only wish I could, it’s what every daughter has the right to expect from her father. I’ll leave it at that I think.

And I only went into the shop to buy a bloody card.