Daddy, Daddy!! Wake up, it's Daddy's day!! Wake up, come on! We've got lots of presents for you!!
The Little Lady and the Little Boom danced around the bed like chimps drunk on milk.
Fuck off you little bastards.
I thought as I tried to burrow deeper under the bedclothes in a vain attempt to hide but to no avail. They kept tugging and pulling at the quilt until finally I gave in.
Alright, you guys. I am coming.
Grudgefully, I swung my legs out of bed. The kids yay'd before skipping and squee'ing ahead of me down the stairs.
Daddy's coming!!!
Their excited voices trailed off into the distance.
Motherfuckers.
I thought resentfully as I stood and followed them downstairs. Couldn't they at least give me a long lie in bed?
I stumbled into the lounge like a cut-rate Tony Soprano fetching his morning paper.
Happy Father's day!!!
The whole gang of pricks were there. The Good Lady, beaming in front of me, her arms open wide as if for a hug. The kids holding out scraps of paper adorned with crude scribbles at me.
I took a moment to squint through my sleep blurred eyes.
What the fuck? Why was the Good Lady dressed like a fucking hobo? Where was all the sex stuff? It was my special day, so why was she wearing ordinary clothes?
I made a grizzly bear ejaculating noise (higher pitched than you might think) and hauled myself over to a chair at the table, flumping down with a tired huff.
Daddy, Daddy, here!!
The Little Lady shoved a card in my hand.
I made it myself.
She pronounced proudly.
No shit, Sherlock. I thought as I eyed it up and down.
Very nice, darling. I love it. What's that thing?
I pointed at a part of the card that looked like a blood tsunami.
It's a butterfly.
Ah, well. That is amazing. Thank you, sweetheart. You are Daddy's little treasure.
I gave the card a shake but oddly there appeared to be no money in it.
Bastard. I put the card to the side and accepted the next offering. It was from the Little Boom. He too looked to have made a card.
That's his handprint on the front.
Announced the Good Lady happily as she ruffled the Little Boom's hair.
What the fuck? Is he an actual Giant?! I looked the Little Boom up and down. Then looked back at the massive smeary handprint on the card.
Awesome, little guy. Thank you very much!
I gave my three-year-old son a hug and gently nudged him to the side.
We have acorn milk.
The Good Lady clucked like a contented mother hen.
I grimaced. What in the name of bloody fuck was Acorn milk? Did acorns have fucking breasts now? She better not put that shit anywhere near my coffee.
Acorn milk? Why, what a delight. As long as it's not in my coffee, my darling.
I did a good impression of some who loves their family and is not disappointed in the least by the lack of hookers, cocaine and bowls of those pills that make you sweat and shit yourself whilst telling everyone you love them and are having an amazing time.
Of course it's not in the coffee. That would be crazy. Here.
She motioned at a tall glass of off-white looking leopard spunk.
Mmm, mmmm.
I tried not to set fire to the house and run away screaming. Where was the fucking exotically aged whisky, rank with peat and smoke? Where were the beers? Why had she not cracked open a tinny and placed it in my hand?
And what the fuck was Acorn milk?
Before I could dwell any more on the shitness of my day the Good Lady stepped forward with a parcel in her hands.
Something shrivelled and dark inside me perked up.
Aye aye, was this it? Something good? It was too small to be a Gibson Guitar so what could it be? Was it a knife? That would be good, one of those mean-looking ones with a curvy blade that I could cruelly gut fish with?
Or perhaps it was a gun? That would be fucking magic. I could go over to my neighbour on the other side of the road and shoot her in the head for parking her pink car where I could see it.
I snarled inwardly at the thought of that fucking pink car.
Yes, please let it be a gun.
I tore off the wrapper.
Inside were three fancy-looking handmade chocolate bars with a note describing how fucking fancy they were.
We love you Daddy-Bear!
The Family all gathered around and hugged me in an obvious attempt to steal the very air I breathed.
They pulled back as one.
Whatcha think, good Fathers Day so far? We are going to head down to the park and give you a couple of hours to just chill because I know you had a few beers last night and might be feeling a wee bit delicate?
The Good Lady's eyes shone with love.
I looked at them all, a motley shower of bastards who professed to love me and yet had given me no hookers, drugs, alcohol, fancy knives or even a solitary Gibson Guitar on this day of Fatherly celebration.
My face cracked into a bitter smile
You guys are awesome. What a splendid day. I am blessed to have such an amazing family.
Fuckers.