A Filthie Father's day: egg breakfast with a bottle of scotch,
and a soon to be repaired crapper.
It will be a day fit for kings.
Technically speaking I am a father; I have two dogs and they are both well adjusted and respectable critters. (What's happening to my nose? It's growing...!!!!)
This morning I got a bottle of horrible scotch (reserved for unsavoury guests like my fellow bloggers)and a toilet repair kit. The upstairs crapper went out of commission recently after a big steak supper. BW, Pete, and Mad Jack used it in succession and the load was just too much for the old Crane to bear, HAR HAR HAR! Today is my day, where I am king of the household. My wife installed the toilet repair kit and I may get round to a sip of scotch later today - or not.
For my dad, I am going over to Pop's to see his new trailer. Mom and Pop used to cruise around in those big behemoths and then sold it off because they figured they were getting too old. They couldn't handle the down time, so they bought another trailer only much smaller and I am happy because it gets them out and about. I am going to dig out an armful of firewood and tie it up in a neat bundle with twine, throw in a bottle of good red wine, and my wife will make a card for Pop. That should be a good present for Pop - who will probly think our efforts are a bunch of nonsense anyways. (He is entirely correct, too!)
For you young fathers out there: never in the history of the species has your job been tougher than it is right now. Never in the history of the species has it been tougher to be a kid either. I wish I had something smart or some sage advice for ya - but I am obsolete. Keep your kids close, keep your eyes peeled - and God bless.
Happy Father's Day.