So for those of you who don’t know, I do have a father. The Daddy, the big guy. Zeus. Zoose, not Zeeus, as our old lower school teacher used to say. The one with the lightning bolts. Father . Vater . Fater . Farter . Fatter . Dad . Dadzine . Dadar . Dardar . Dada . Defence against the dark arts. Paul . Paulie . Paulie the Parrot from that shitty 90s movie. Paul the alien from that much better new film with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. D-A-D.
And last week, most unceremoniously of the fact that it was Father’s Day, we had a rather explosive argument, as occasionally fathers and sons do.
Our arguments usually entail one or more of the following 1. “gayness”. 2. money. 3. stepmother. 4. lack of bedroom at father’s house [which, I tell him time and time again I care not about due to the fact mother lives just down the road, and I have a bedroom there, but it appears he feels guilty so thinks I am always irritated about it.] For the most part, we’re usually on the same side and have wires crossed. Occasionally we just rub each other up the wrong way.
And I haven’t been so angry for a long time, and for those of you who know me, rage is one of my primary emotions. Despite me being all cute and fluffy.
So anyway, anyway, anyway. He rang me the other day in what I can only assume was apology, and now everything’s fine. So in honour of him, I post this song, by Lilet Alan.
Loads of love, for fathers everywhere. Lord knows they’re not perfect, but who cares? Water runs but blood does clot.
Ps – there’s this saying about having a tidy room means having a tidy mind . I’m sorting all my shit out today [am on my Lunch break currently] so can as such then make this blog the best it can be. It’s in a developmental stage currently, so thank you to all of you who are regular readers, my love goes out to you ❤ xx