Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Fathers Day

Fathers Day came and went. Happy Fathers Day, Dad! Thank you for being such a great example of practicality, generosity and love. And also a medical marvel. How did you break all your fingers again exactly?

As for the K-Dog, I really wanted to write down some of my favourite Keith stories here. But life, Game Of Thrones season 2 and a little dose of the spew-flu for the small girls has sucked away my time to update this here blob.  So I won't elaborate on the time Keith fought off a Swiss Ball he thought was a home intruder, or the Bitterness Log he filled in every night in bed for a time, which had me worrying for our marriage, but was actually his scientific record-keeping  approach to a health problem, or even my favourite Keith story, which takes place when Keith was nine and living in France, and his mother invited the cool American kid Dino in to the bathroom to watch Keith's Olympics game, which involved him in the bath, allocating different country status to little boats, and then racing them around a whirlpool, and scoring the results in an elaborate notebook. (A scientist from the outset.) Keith's mum Liz didn't really see that that the display could be a little embarrassing. She was just so proud of him, you see. And now, I share it with you and the world, because I am just so proud of him too. The crazy bastard. 

On Fathers Day he gave Ted some riding lessons in the sunshine. 

 Showed Ivy how to cane it on a tricycle. 

Started the morning reading the papers in his in-laws caravan (Thanks Mum and Dad!)

Had his face kissed off by his loving woife

 Got up on the roof and fixed the gutters

 And hung out over the road with the kids on the rock they call Row Your Boat

A great day for a great Dad. 


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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.