jeanniejeanniejeannie.co.uk BLOG Saturday 22nd June 2019

Hi Ewan here,

As it was Father’s Day last week Dad got to choose what to do. I thought it should have been for the one day, Father’s Day but in the end it was three days.

Brother Rory was off school the Friday before especially for Father’s Day but they gave it a funny name, an ‘Inset Day’. Obviously that is French, Spanish or American for ‘Father’s Day’.

Rory’s school has lots of extra holidays, a few weeks ago they had one for May Day, then one for European Elections and now one for Father’s Day. They just don’t want school.

Dad was off Friday too for the Inset Day or Father’s Day. He doesn’t want work either. Both of them are just wasters, not committed to it come what may like I am. You see Friday’s are not working days for me and my Mum so we couldn’t be accused of idling.

All this extra time to celebrate and give thanks for Fathers?

The official Father’s Day was Sunday. I’ll start by talking about that. A special day for dad when he does what he likes. Ok, what’s different to any other day?

You expect him to choose a day at Twycross Zoo or Thomasland or The Space Centre. Not my Dad. He chose to go to a Garden Centre. Loser!

Why would anyone want to go to a Garden Centre out of choice any day of the year let alone one where you are given freedom of the day to do as you wish?

Although he did one brilliant thing which was he added a game of golf in the day for all of us at Ramsdale Golf Club. I have to admit, I did enjoy that one.

Father’s Day is an odd one to me. My Mum chooses stuff like greeting cards at a shop or Tescos or somewhere just as boring. She reads the words, which never mean a thing to me and Brother Rory. She shows us the picture and asks if we like it. We always grunt or say yes. And she takes it to the check out and buys it.

When we get it home Brother Rory writes From Brother Rory in his neatest handwriting and I scribble Ewan in my neatest scribble. I don’t think they call it neatest handwriting until I get to school in September.

On Father’s Day Mum rounds us up and we have to present them to Dad with a Garden Centre voucher.

Mum said to Brother Rory, ‘What do you say to Daddy?’ Brother Rory said ‘Happy Father’s Day’.

Mum said to me, ‘What do you say to Daddy?’ I said ‘Sorry.’

That seemed to cause great hilarity with Mum responding ‘No, Happy Father’s Day.’

Well that’s a first. Almost daily Mum says to me ‘Ewan, don’t do that to Daddy. Now, what do you say to him?’ which is a cue for me to say ‘Sorry, Daddy.’

How was I to know I didn’t need to say sorry. The grownup world is a complicated place.

We shared a celebratory Father’s Day Meal with Cousin George and Cousin Freya that Auntie NanNan had prepared. The meal was brilliant making it a great Father’s Day party foodwise. But where was the bouncy castle, the ball pool and the climbing frame? Call themselves party organisers. Party organisers my… A good party is not just for food alone you know.

On Saturday as part of the Father’s Day Weekend celebration we went to The Great Central Railway Model Railway event at Quorn near Loughborough. That was ok. Lots of huge chuffing steam trains and lots of old chuffing men playing with toy trains.

My Grandad was there with his best mate from school. I didn’t realise Grandad still went to school, or had any friends for that matter. Who would want to be a friend of Grandad’s. But I suppose when you get old you can’t be too coosy.

Although the railway show was good, I don’t think it was us, Dad was not into it either, but Grandad was into it in a big way.

Mum said that was good because Grandad needed something for Father’s Day.

Hang on though it is Father’s Day not Grandfather’s Day,

But, get this: Mum said Grandad is a Father, he is my Mum and Auntie NanNan’s daddy.

Grandad is so not a ‘Father’. That sounds like a Grandad joke to me. I think my Mum has been around Grandad too long and has caught his Grandad jokes.

Grandad insisted on getting a lift back to Mamma’s house with us, which meant he squeezed into the back of our car between me and Brother Rory, again. This was getting to be a regular thing. He did that the day before.

I’ll tell you more details about the day before, the Friday of Father’s Day in a moment.

But just to conclude about Father’s Day Saturday: yes, big fat Grandad squeezed on to the back seat of our car. Have you seen the size of his tummy? There’s just not the room for it on our backseat along with Brother Rory and me and my penguin.

On Father’s Day Friday he also squeezed in and it was novel all of us being squashed up together in the back. If Daddy had crashed the car I do not think it would have mattered whether we were in the child car safety seat or not because Grandad’s big tum would have cushioned us far more efficiently than any airbag.

But by Father’s Day Saturday the novelty had worn off Grandad joining us on the back seat. They say three’s a crowd. I don’t know who ‘they’ are but ‘they’ got it right. It was too claustrophobic and boring, so I went to sleep.

We took Grandad to Mamma’s house. It is funny how Grandad sponges off Mamma and doesn’t have a house of his own. But I suppose Mamma does look after you well so I know where he’s coming from.

Auntie NanNan, Uncle ColCol and Cousin Freya and Cousin George where at Mamma’s house and Mamma had done this special Father’s Day tea.

Boy, was I tired, Grandad just wears me out, and then we had to go home and write my Dad’s Father’s Day card. I did have one I prepared earlier too. I created my own masterpiece at nursery/pre-school. Like all my artwork it was very surreal and abstract crossed with being a Banksy style. Talking of Banksy I have to say there is just one thing that stops me being a Banksy artist, Mum and Dad go ape if I try to draw on the wall.

And why didn’t me and Brother Rory get presents for Father’s Day as well as Dad and Grandad and Grandad David. We should do. It is us that has to put up with Dad.

I suppose we did get a sort of gift on Father’s Day Friday or Inset Day. We went to trampolining in the morning and Derby Museum in the afternoon.

I’m not sure it was Dad’s choice to actually do those things. I think he’d rather have gone fishing or for a game of golf. I think going to the Garden Centre twice in three days would have been just a little too much even for my dad who is a garden centre/Wilko fanatic.

But he did seem to get lots out of his day. He loved the trampolining.

He loved Derby Museum too. There was a special Lego exhibition on entitled “Brick History”. There were aspects of history all built out of Lego bricks on display. It was like a walk through Brother Rory’s bedroom.

There were Lego men masks and costumes. Me and Brother Rory put them on and looked like Lego figures from the Lego movie. Mum took our photo. A bit pointless as we could have been anyone or even a piece of Lego.

Although the Lego Exhibition was good I found some of the other rooms just as if not more interesting.

There was a room with dead and stuffed animals and dead beetles and butterflies. That was good. I stroked a real fox, frozen in time and motionless. There was a badger and a tiny wood mouse. It looked like Peter Rabbit and Friends meet Frozen Live but Dead.

There were soldiers stuff from World War I and World War II with lots of gunfire and medals.

But the most mind blowing room was the Mummy Room. Not Mummys as in Mummy & Daddy but Mummys as in The Pharaohs and dead mummys all bandaged up.

There were three real mummys. Two in cases and one with the case opened up. That was so utterly and completely scary and spooked me out. I’m one of the bravest kids on the block, sometimes, but I had to make my apologies and leave the room on this occassion.

Grandad appeared out of nowhere at the Derby Museum. I suppose it was all part of him trying to convince everyone he was a father. We had to keep him moving around so people didn’t think he was one of the exhibits. (That is one of the oldest Grandad jokes ever.)

I don’t know why he didn’t join us for trampolining. I know he can jump because I’ve heard Dad say to Mum “Grandad is in for the high jump” when Grandad has upset Mamma. (Another very old Grandad joke.)

Mum felt compelled to buy Grandad a cup of tea and Dad felt equally compelled to give him a lift home. I was excited until I realised he’d got to squeeze into the back of our car with me, Brother Rory and my penguin.

That was complete madness. If you’ve spent any time with my Grandad you will understand why, then add being in a confined space of the back seat of a car barely suitable for one person let alone four. And then I had to put up with Grandad’s crazy antics all the way home.

And that takes us to the end of Dad’s Father’s Day Celebrations or Inset Day Celebrations for another year. Due to how I have written it though I suppose it takes us back to the beginning of our Father’s (Inset) Day celebrations.

Bye Bye, Ewan


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Saturday 22nd June 2019


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