When your kids are small, you can just present them with a card and some felt tips. But when they’re adolescents, everything gets much trickier
It was Father’s Day morning, and my friend and I were comparing notes on whose offspring were the least prepared: if you thought children were useless, may I introduce you to adolescents? “I couldn’t put a card and some felt-tips in front of them,” she said, “they’re teenagers; they’re not nine.” “So have they made cards?” “Nope.” I am expressly forbidden from writing about my daughter, so let’s just square her off with the statement that she is perfect in every way, and her Father’s Day efforts were second to none.
The rest of them, sheesh. My daughter’s best friend said the problem with dads is that they don’t want anything, then amended that to: they either want some speakers for £5,000 or they want a glass of water, there’s nothing in between. Then it hit her that she could get her dad some chocolates. “Does he like chocolate?” I asked, sceptically, because, in my experience, a lot of parents prefer to get their sugar from alcohol. “Everyone likes chocolate,” she said, with unbridled confidence. My son ignored all the helpful links I’d sent him – a plectrum holder in the shape of a tiny guitar; a hat – and said the true gift of Father’s Day was that his dad had grown a whole person to watch the football with. I said, “Oi, I half grew you and football was nowhere in my intentions” and he said: “And yet, here I am, going to watch the football.”
Continue reading… When your kids are small, you can just present them with a card and some felt tips. But when they’re adolescents, everything gets much trickierIt was Father’s Day morning, and my friend and I were comparing notes on whose offspring were the least prepared: if you thought children were useless, may I introduce you to adolescents? “I couldn’t put a card and some felt-tips in front of them,” she said, “they’re teenagers; they’re not nine.” “So have they made cards?” “Nope.” I am expressly forbidden from writing about my daughter, so let’s just square her off with the statement that she is perfect in every way, and her Father’s Day efforts were second to none.The rest of them, sheesh. My daughter’s best friend said the problem with dads is that they don’t want anything, then amended that to: they either want some speakers for £5,000 or they want a glass of water, there’s nothing in between. Then it hit her that she could get her dad some chocolates. “Does he like chocolate?” I asked, sceptically, because, in my experience, a lot of parents prefer to get their sugar from alcohol. “Everyone likes chocolate,” she said, with unbridled confidence. My son ignored all the helpful links I’d sent him – a plectrum holder in the shape of a tiny guitar; a hat – and said the true gift of Father’s Day was that his dad had grown a whole person to watch the football with. I said, “Oi, I half grew you and football was nowhere in my intentions” and he said: “And yet, here I am, going to watch the football.” Continue reading… Father’s Day, Life and style, Family, Parents and parenting, Young people
