Daddy, how much have I got in my bank account?
The Little Lady was crouched over her phone screen no doubt staring at something on it which was screaming BUY ME!
Uh, hang on.
I logged into her bank account on my phone sighing inwardly at the Boom Curse which hung heavily over my head.
What is the Boom Curse I hear you cry?
It is simple. I am a techy guy. I always have been. From a young age I was the go to guy in my house for fixing TVs, VCRs and the like. When I got older I was always the one changing settings on tablets and fixing phones for other people.
In short, I was the free IT Support for every relative in my life.
Naturally, when I had kids I thought I had hit the jackpot. Time to hand over the mantle. No doubt these little buzzing fruits of my loins would be afire with technical knowledge which surely must have been a built-in part of my man-batter.
But no, both of them had all the technological aptitude of a baby seal with its head trapped in a wet sock.
And so, I was stuck in the horrifying purgatory of being the only guy in the house that could change settings on the TV, tell the difference between types of USB leads and wipe their own arse. Ok, maybe I lied about the last bit. 75% of the house can maybe wipe their own arse.
But I digress!
You have 26 earth pounds young lady.
I flicked her banking app away with a swipe that would have given Zorro a semi.
26 pounds, brilliant. Now, what can I spend it on?
Her eyes gleamed with the excitement of the young.
Hmm, you could probably buy a million BLURT to become a Blurt Whale.
I chortled and clapped myself on the back at my sterling wit.
Blurt, whassat?
She frowned, her brow furrowing in a cute way like a Guinea Pig that has stolen a bag of M&Ms.
Oh it's an alternative Social Media Platform for the weak.
I attempted high-fiving myself but almost tripped over my condescending smirk.
So what should I buy?
She got up and started pacing the room, tormented by the need to fritter her small fortune away.
You could buy me a couple of beers and a curry?
I vibrated with slightly manic hope.
Nah, I know... I might buy the latest Fasbear Frights novel!
She leapt up and down and gave me a fist bump as if I was in on the Fasbear Frights shit and not some confused Dad dude that couldn't keep up with the kids.
Or, maybe you could save up your money for a couple of months and when we go on our summer holiday you will have a massive stash to blow on all that plastic tat that you love?
Despite the fact she was nearing her teenage years and was more and more resembling one of those snarky kids from any Scooby Doo movie, she still loved the touristy plastic tat that was sold in Holiday towns.
Save up my money?
She looked at me in confusion as if I were a terrapin that had shat on her hand.
Yeah, you know. You love spending money on holiday. Wouldn't it be cool to like, go on hols with a wad of cash that you could spend on whatever you liked?
I nodded at her, willing the message to sink in. That message being of course that I was sick of bankrolling her on holiday.
Her look of confusion slowly cleared to one of disdainful understanding.
No thanks, I think I will just spend it now.
She leapt up and ran to go up to her room giggling at the thought of blowing all her money on shit.
Dad. The door is stuck again. I can't get out?!
She glared at the door and then me.
I sighed and got up from my chair.
For. Fuck. Sake.
