Most of the time (when I haven’t been disagreeing and arguing with him) I have felt bad for my dad. Not only has he always been outnumbered by the women in the house, he has been outnumbered by women who are headstrong, independent, and have their own ideas about absolutely everything. And I mean everything. He has been a good sport, though, having -evolved a method of absolute shut-off-and-ignore that I suppose becomes necessary for sanity. He surfaced occasionally to impose curfews (which were adhered to loosely) insist on family dinners (which were attended grumblingly) and demand his TV time (which was always given willingly). Over the years he mellowed down from needing to prove his rule over the house, to a kind of a quiet acceptance of the fact that he was king of the house in name alone. Until now. Happy Father’s Day, Abba. Enjoy the spoils.
For some eight and twenty years to start,
He’s been surrounded by us females strong;
We know our mind and we know our hearts,
He knew he could never win for long.
It’s his time now to gloat with glee,
He’s leading by a landslide;
He smiles his oh-so-cheeky smile
‘Coz he’s got two boys by his side!!