The Bank Of Dad
I was sitting, quite innocently, in the lounge watching a TV programme (name forgotten) when my daughter and my future son-in-law came in. As per usual my daughter started talking to my wife (yakety yakety yakety) 13 to the dozen. The usual stuff. Rubbish / Women’s things / this & that. This is where I have learnt (over many years) to switch off. It’s a bit like when in the good ole days one used to turn on, tune in, drop out only one just stops listening altogether and goes into a stoner trance. Anyway, there were 3 words mentioned that for some reason caught my attention whist in this trance like state. ‘Bank of Dad’. Now this got my attention. I do wish it hadn’t but there was no getting away from it. I turned my head away from the whatever TV prog I was trying to watch and said ‘Uh’.
The wrong thing to say indeed. My daughter and partner now had my attention and there was no escape route as they were both blocking all exits from the room. Excuses of being tired and needing to go and lie down for a few hours didn’t work. I was stuck. I had to listen. A list was verbally presented along with costs (VAT included) at a rapid rate as only my daughter can deliver such things. I kept interrupting with ‘How much?’ but was totally ignored. My daughter was still talking.
Don’t get me wrong folks, I love my daughter very much and I like my future son in law. But trying to get a straight answer to a simple question is impossible. I kept saying ‘How much? To no avail. EventuaLLy things quietened down and everybody looked in my direction, wife included. What could I say? What could I do? Before I realised it I had opened my mouth without engaging my brain and spoke the words ‘No problem, is that all you need? Doh!!!
She is my one and only daughter and I want to make it a day for her to remember and for everybody else who is going to be there. By the way folks, in case yo hadn’t realised it, I am the Father of The Bride.
Tomorrow night is the fitting night for the menfolk of the bridal party. Afterwards, we are heading out for a meal of some description and a few bevvies. That all sounds great, for them. I will have to sit there and nurse my tonic water as alcohol is forbidden. Maybe I could turn watching people getting drunk whilst staying sober into a national sport. A national something anyway. Camera at the ready.
Roll on the Wedding Day. Come August things will start to get back to normal again. Any money coming in I will be able to earmark for myself again. On August 2nd I receive my medal for having survived having Insulin Dependent Diabetes. Not bad for someone who thought they wouldn’t see 30! Maybe it was all the drinking and smoking and other things I have done over the past years that kept me going although I do believe it was meeting my wife who took control of my life who helped me more’
Posted :: Sunday 6/12/2011 11:22:00 AM