A Pair of Pants

The day dawned bright and sunny. I leapt out of bed. Hot fonking potatoes, it's Father's day!! One of the few genuine bonuses of fatherhood apart from all that pride and joy nonsense that your spawn gives you, is the fact that you get another birthday-esque type of day!

A day of gifts and lordiness!! I am poked up with excitement! I can hear them chatting away downstairs. No doubt working on a stupendous fucking breakfast that would make a Rhino pause in its gigantic magnificence.

I quickly launch into the shower and then into my clothes. Woot woot!! All aboard the Daddy train!!

Downstairs Mummy and my beautiful daughter greet me with excited smiles and festoon me with gifts that would make a prince of the realm weep culminating in a large exquisitely wrapped guitar shaped thing.

Oh my god, oh, my god. Is it the Gibson guitar that I have fetish dreamed of for so long but never been able to afford? I eagerly tear off the wrapping and there she is winking at me in all her reddish sunburst glory.

Oh wait a minute... Back a bit.

I get downstairs. Yeah, this is what being a daddy is all about. I am half wishing there was a felon in the house and I had a sock full of dimes so that I could smash em on the head and shout Who's the daddy? but sometimes it's nice not to have a fight on the stairs.

I push open the door to the living room. My breath hitches in my throat at the delights that await.

There are some noises coming from the kitchen. Carefully I step over a floor full of toys to see what is happening. Obviously, my breakfast of kings is being made. Perhaps it takes both of them?

I come into view of the kitchen. Mummy is there, pregnant with a spatula in hand and hugely frazzled looking. Clinging to her leg is my child sobbing for some infraction of the laws of the game.

Pfft, she don't know the game yet, a part of me thinks

Ummm, is breakfast on its way?

I say this quite tentatively given the look of stress and indiscriminate rage bubbling beneath my good ladies face.

Not quite. she forces out between gritted teeth.

Well, obviously I could be a cock and go and sit on my laptop and await my feast but hey. It's a day of giving right? So I muck in with ole mummy bear and eventually we calm the crying child and finish off the food that was to be served.

After breakfast, I am solemnly summoned to the floor.

Close your eyes. My daughter demands.

I hold my breath and try not to look as if I know the nature of the game.

I hear them leave the room and go into the big cupboard next to the front door.

I let out a girlish giggle. Flippity flip, flippity flip flip flip!! My Gibson guitar. Here it comes! I have always trusted my dreams you see. I can almost smell that new string oily smell of a freshly popped guitar.

The world stands still and even the universe halts. and observes...

OPEN YOUR EYES!!

I smile hugely and open them. To say I open them magnanimously would be an understatement. I spread my hands wide in the way that I imagine an emperor would and survey the gift that has been dragged before me.

It's a pair of pants.

Granted it's a really cool mad my type of pants pair of pants. But it is most definitely a pair of pants and not a guitar.

I sweep my family up close and give them both a hug.

Do you like them? They clamour.

I look at them both fondly with nothing but love in my eyes.

I hot donking love them! I cry.

Happy Fathers day all you Dad's!!