Father’s Day

I can’t remember if we marked Father’s Day when I was growing up. I remember Mother’s Day. I remember making cards in school and a teacher’s hushed whispers as she and a colleague discussed how they were going to handle it for Poor Penny Peters whose mum had run away with the milkman, “floozy” and left Poor Peter Peters to cope on his own. Peter Peters was, by all accounts, rather attractive and didn’t deserve that, so the teachers decided that Penny could make a Mother’s Day card for her Dad, “That man’s a saint.” I think he still had to have the flower design from the petals I was cutting out. That was how I heard the conversation. Being ‘good with scissors’ meant that in the Seventies you got to miss break and become the class TA, while the teachers gossiped and drank coffee.

Anyway, back to Father’s Day. As I say, I don’t remember. I have a vague recollection of a sniffy conversation with my Mum in a card shop.
“It’s just a silly American thing, to get you to buy things.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice...”
“It’s commercialism.”
If it had been a day when we celebrated Dads then mine would have got a packet of peanuts and a bag of nails, in a brown paper bag that I bought from Kitts. That’s what he got for other events. I remember going into the hardware shop and talking to the man behind the counter, who was wearing a brown pinny.
“I’d like some nails please, it’s my Dad’s birthday.”
“Yes, certainly, young lady. Do you know what kind he would like?”
I scanned the shelf, where items were kept in glass jars like sweeties.
“Nine inch. Flat head.”
My confidence was faked.
Dad always pretended to be thrilled with his nails. Maybe he was, who knows?
I’m the last few years, those nails became beer and liquorice all sorts. I still like to give the rose a drink of Old Speckled Hen on birthdays and Fathers Day.

These days that celebrate parents can be really hard for people who don’t have them around. This year could be difficult for a lot more, who are restricted by lockdown advice.

In our house, we are lucky because the Long Suffering Husband has had both of his children home since the beginning of lockdown. He has been able to wander round the house tutting phrases like, “treat this house like a hotel,” “Lights!” and “There’s no bowls left. I’d look in your room but I might get  dragged off by the huge rats that are probably living in there.”
The kids couldn’t be luckier, either. There’s nothing the LSH wouldn’t do for them. He’s just the best.

Happy Father’s Day to all the brilliant dads. I hope you enjoy your packet of nails.