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36 GEORGE'S DAD'S DAY - PROTECTED

24th JUNE 2017

 

 

PROTECTING GEORGE'S DAD'S DAY

 

 

Hi George here. Welcome to my world won’t you come on in.

 

You know you are getting old when you have celebrated something for two years running. Yes, I’ve just celebrated my second Father’s Day. Dad was first to take advantage of me and demand a present from me when I was six weeks old. When I was only knee high to a grasshopper. So this year I knew exactly what to do.

 

What surprised me is the number of people who tried to hedge in on Dad’s Day.

 

For a start there was Grandad. You’ll laugh at this. Do you know he thought and made out he was a father. Another Grandad joke they are just not funny.

 

What was worst about this one is that mum backed him up and agreed with him. She said he is her dad.

 

Mum’s far too old to have a dad. Dad then started winding me up and saying Grandad Reed was his dad. Dad can’t resist winding me up.

 

Anyway Grandads, stop trying to take the focus from Dad. It was Dad’s Day and you need to wait until Grandad’s Day.

We all went out for a meal and we all benefited from Dad’s Day, even Mamma, Mum and Auntie JuJu. Uncle Ian was another one who was trying to celebrate Dad’s Day – the clue is in your title, right, U-N-C-L-E Ian. Wait until Uncle’s Day.

 

The meal of steak and chips looked brilliant, not that I got a look in. I unfortunately, ate before going out – big mistake – I did not get a steak, just a bowl of peas Cousin Rory didn’t want. But I relished them, painstakingly picking them up with my fingers eating every single one, one by one.

 

There were puddings, too, ice creams and chocolate brownies, but not a one for me, just a bit off the end of somebody’s spoon. It really is not good enough. Ewan knows this organisation I can ring to make a complaint. I can get grandad’s phone off him. It’s a doddle, a piece of cake. I just need to learn to talk and I can report my mum and dad for cruelly withholding steak and chips from me.

 

All the time I wonder why I bother to drive myself on and learn new things. What’s the point? I go through all the pain, emotion and effort and complications to master walking and they refuse point blank to take me to the Lake District or to let me put it into full use and walk the 202 miles Coast to Coast.

 

And I go through the agonising business of cutting my teeth and they will not allow me a steak or/and chips.

After everyone finished the meal, no one came back to ours. I was really put out by that. Why didn’t they bring all their presents for my dad, they acted as if they didn’t know it was his day.

 

I had my first difference of opinion with Cousin Ewan, too. He said he’s got the best dad in the world. I don’t get him. He knows he can’t have because my dad is the best dad in the world ever…

 

When we got back I was ready for bed. I’d been up since 5.00am that morning. I woke up specially for dad, with it being his special day. I knew he’d be excited and want to get up as early as  he could and open his presents, so I woke him up. He really tried hiding how excited and grateful he felt, but I saw through him.

 

I can’t wait to become a dad and get lots of presents on Father’s Day. I don’t know how you become a dad. I think you take some exans when you go to school. I will pass easily because I know exactly what you have to do to be a dad.

 

You have to wind mum up. That’s dead easy. You have to be able to play golf when it’s inconvenient to mum (usually that’s any time). You have to support a no-hoper football team. You have to constantly watch Star Wars on TV. And you have to have a shed. Achieve all that and you are a dad. I think I can do all that now, so I might become a dad before I start school, even.

 

Anyway, Dad’s Day was alright for me, I think it was for Sister Freya too, and at the end of the day I think Dad got something out of it, too.

 

 

As Ewan says: Bye, Bye – George.

 

©2017 www.jeanniejeanniejeannie.co.uk – Phil Robinson

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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