What a day to be a father (From The Northern Echo)

What a day to be a father

3:40pm Thursday 30th June 2011 in Dad At Large By Peter Barron

FATHER’S Day is a once-a-year opportunity to let dads know how special they are: to treat them; tell them they’re the best; and generally make them feel good about themselves.

In the run up to this year’s Father’s Day, I’d made a public declaration that I didn’t want a lot of money spending on me. There was no need for lots of presents. But, of course, I didn’t really mean it – I yearned to be spoiled.

So there we were, sitting round the Sunday lunch table, with a card and a present waiting to be unwrapped.

“Oh, I told you not to bother,” I said, with a sigh of resignation.

The card was signed by all four of our offspring, though someone must have forged The Big Friendly Giant’s signature because he’s still living down in Hull.

I tore the wrapping paper off the present to reveal a white T-shirt with a word printed in black letters. It could have been “HEROIC”. It could have been “SUPERDAD”. It could have been “GORGEOUS”. But it wasn’t – it was “HYPERCONDRIAC”.

“We had it specially printed,” giggled Hannah, 19, who’s home from dance school for a while. “We thought it summed you up.”

“That’s fantastic,” I replied, joining in the hilarity on auto-pilot.

But, inside, I couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of injustice. Sums me up? I just happen to be very unlucky when it comes to ailments.

Over the past year or so, I’ve had a blood clot resulting from a knee operation, a damaged wrist which has stopped me playing tennis for six weeks, a stomach upset caused by eating ten satsumas in one day (I thought they’d be good for me and they were selling them for ten for a pound at Darlington market), a trapped nerve in my neck, and a couple of severe doses of man flu.

Oh, and while I’m on the subject of man flu, I was delighted to read in the weekend papers that research at the University of Queensland in Australia has confirmed that the male affliction really does exist.

The research concludes that women have a “much stronger immune response” than men to bugs that cause colds and flu. This means us fellas are more likely to be laid low by the same germs. So there.

Anyway, my point is that my new T-shirt simply isn’t a fair description of me. I really am more susceptible to injuries and illness than the average dad.

But that’s not the only thing that gets up my nose about my Father’s Day present. It was bad enough to have my own flesh and blood brand me a hypochondriac, but they couldn’t even spell it correctly.

“I’m not a hypochondriac,” I protested. “And that’s not even how you spell it.”

“You’ve got to learn to stop whingeing, Dad,” replied Max, 14.

“Yeah, Dad, calm down,” added Jack, 17. “It’s not good for your blood pressure.”

So that was it – Father’s Day 2011.

My big concern is now that this is the beginning of a collection. I have visions of getting a T-shirt for Christmas with “IMBECILE” on it followed by another for my birthday inscribed with the word “EMBARRASSMENT”.

All I ask for is a little respect.

THE THINGS MUMS SAY

A FEW days after Father’s Day it was announced in the papers that George Clooney is single again. The Hollywood star has split from his stunning Italian model girlfriend Elisabetta Canalis after she was quoted saying she’d like to get married and have children.

“That’s all right,” my wife said to my daughter, “I’ve got all the children I need and I’m already married, so it won’t be an issue.”

It was as if I didn’t exist.

THE THINGS KIDS SAY

AT a meeting of the University of The Third Age in Washington, Sandy Parsons remembered teaching at a school in Derby and the subject of the lesson was crime and punishment.

“Where do young offenders go for a short, sharp shock?” the pupils were asked.

A hand shot up and a boy shouted: “The electric chair, Miss.”

VERA Rickard recalled the time a teacher at her son Billy’s school asked the class: “What goes into a Christmas pudding?”

Billy, seven, at the time produced the answer: “Teeth!”