Father's Day did not feature at all in my childhood - simply because it wasn't my mothers cup-of-gin. However in the last couple of years I have inserted it into my own family's calendar, just because of all the advertising made me realise I was missing something in my life, something that could be bought from Bunnings or DJs or Myer. Oh alright. I inserted it into my own family's calendar because...
- It means I can demand expensive presents on Mother's Day,
- It means I can buy hubby some t-shirts that Are NOT Grey,
- Because Hubby is a great Dad and I think the kids and I should acknowledge the patience and sacrifices he makes for us without ever expecting anything in return. YES. There it is. I've said something nice about him. Wait, was that a cold chill? Did hell freeze over? Of course not. That's not going to happen until I show a certain someone (let's call him DW) my breasts.
Anyhoo, I'm sure you're all gagging to know how the testicless one is. Er, no not hubby (yet - snigger). The dog. Sebby.
Picked him up from the vet yesterday morning where, upon seeing me, he threw himself upon the floor - legs in the air to better display his brazilian - and started the most ear splitting yelping. Alarmed vets abandoned their appointments and came hurtling into the waiting room to see what the hell was going on. Of course it was only me. One of the vets checked him over to make sure he was okay and then the dog was deemed a Big Girl's Blouse.
Sebby however had not yet made his point. He sprinted from the vet to the other person in the waiting room - a burly bloke with a fluffy bunny - and made friends, licking and wagging and admiring the bunny and all big spaniel eyes begging to take him home because SHE is the EVIL ONE and who know what she'll be amputating next - maybe with her TEETH. Then he looked at me and started the yelping thing again (the dog, not the burly fellow).
Yes. Clearly I was the one to blame.
After he'd calmed down a bit - shut up long enough to get to the car - I whisked him home and administered love, strokes and food - most of which was barfed up on the kitchen floor. He was pretty quiet and slept a lot, but started to perk up in the evening. The yelping only happened on one more occasion (and this was when he got into next-doors back yard and had to be passed over the fence to safety from their boisterous Kelpie).
This morning was, of course Father's Day. And to celebrate I was doing my famous (at my house anyway) chocolate breakfast - hot chocolate, chocolate croissants, nutella on waffles etc... Sebs watched proceedings for a bit from his mat, and when he judged that the entire family was present and enjoying the heady aroma of chocolate and baking croissants, he positioned himself under the table and with a small grunt, produced the most offensive smelling poo I have ever encountered.
End of breakfast.