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This is a question Dad stories

"Do anything good for your birthday?" one of your friendly B3TA moderator team asked in one of those father/son phone calls that last two minutes. "Yep," he said, "Your mum." Tell us about dads, lack of dad and being a dad.

Suggested by bROKEN aRROW

(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 11:50)
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This question is now closed.

Found out on Monday
That I'm going to be a dad. It was certainly unexpected and I'm more than a bit nervous about the whole thing.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:17, 38 replies)
Oh man, my dad's such a cunt he once cut my hand off.

(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:16, 9 replies)
Shameless repost:
I would like to point out that my dad is of a wildly different generation, and has thankfully cured his homophobia. Due to the fact that several of his close friends came out of the closet in the past few years he has realised that he was being an idiot.


When my oldest brother had reached the age of...
about 16, he started running around with his mate(who we shall call Steve)a lot more at night and started going to pubs, drinking and of course chasing women.

Now me and my brothers lived a sheltered life and had quite restrictive parents, so did Steve and eventually his dad came over to see my dad about the whole 'running around town' scenario as he called it. Now Steve's dad said something along the lines of:

"You know Mr Bamboo Steamer I am not to happy the way you let your son run all over the town with Steve to all hours of the night and this chasing girls thing...I don't want him making any 'mistakes', if you know what I mean"

To which my dad replied with the best advice ever:

"Oh I agree but look at it this way...at least we havn't raised a couple of poofs now have we?"

Steve's dad:

"You know, I had never thought of it that way before, all the best...bye!" and promptly left and never complained again.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:14, 1 reply)
"Track 17"
I have no dad stories of my own for I am not now nor ever will be a dad; the best I can hope for is mum as I am a lady. I do have a dad but as of yet I can’t think of any stories to tell about him.

My little brother however has a 4 year old son who thinks that world shines out of him, and to be fair he is a really good dad, however his choices of songs to teach the little one is a bit left of field, for example at the moment if you ask the nipper to sing “Track 17” he will regale you with “Talk Dirty to Me” by Poison word for word. He also knows a fair bit of the Queen and Meatloaf back catalogue.

My Bro has also taught him the diarrhoea song which he thinks is hilarious and sings all this time, much to the chagrin of his mum (my Brother and the mother of his son are not together) and all the people on Southport Pier when he came to visit us earlier this year. He has even taught him to do his own rhymes for the couplets in the song, my favourites are “it came out a bum but it wasn’t very fun” and “it came out on my knee but I really couldn’t see” this is from a 4 year old under the tutelage of his Dad, stand back I say for this is the future of tomorrow.

I hope when I have kids they are as much fun to corrupt!
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:11, 3 replies)
Answer Machine
My dad is pretty much a 50 year old child. A few weeks ago I spent the weekend at home because I was going to a gig and it was cheaper to get there from home than from where I go to uni.
When I got home my dad was the only one home and was sat by the phone laughing hysterically.This went on for a bout 20 minutes until he managed to calm himself down enough to tell me what was so funny.
He'd rang my nan's house but she wasn't in and it went to answer machine so he farted down the phone.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:07, 4 replies)

(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:06, 9 replies)
Things my Dad sais without trying to be ironic:
"Don't always exaggerate everything so horrendously!"
"Your facts won't convince me you're right."
"You know, I'm the kind of person who doesn't brag about anything, which you should really learn to do aswell."

There are many more, but these are ones he uses regularly, and he never in all those years caught on to why my brother and I were laughing.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 13:03, Reply)
I love my dad. I do. We're exactly alike in so many ways, we're both quiet and shy, we love food, we'll never tire of watching QI repeats and still find them hilarious. He's picked me up from the last train more time than I have fingers AND toes. And last week he lent me £50, which to an impoverished student who can't afford food or bus fare, is like a million quid.
So he gets very annoyed when I remind him of the time he forgot I existed.

I was seven or so, and my sister was five. She was in reception class, I was in year two. When we were picked up from school, whoever was picking us up would wait by the reception playground for sister to come out, and I'd run round and meet them there.
One day it was my dad's turn. He may have been off work, he may have been on early shift, it doesn't matter.
So as usual, I walked round to the playground at half past three, and...nothing. No sign of my dad. I waited and watched as everyone else left, and there, in the distance was my sister, bobbling along on my dad's shoulders. Out of the school. Without me.
I ran after them and caught up, but I still didn't stop crying for a good few hours.

He doesn't like me reminding him of this.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:57, Reply)
Kids Logic
My 6 year old daughter, we're sat doing her bit of homework for the week when she pipes up...

Her : "Dad, Why is it called a 'Double-U' when it looks more like a 'Double-V'?"
Me : "well... ermm.. because.. ermm...."

I had no reply, she was totally right. I didn't have an answer. She pointed out the massive flaw in the english language.

It's great seeing kids as they apply their logic and discover the world, seeing things from a fresh and new perspective *wipes tear from eye*
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:56, 6 replies)
Mine died
over fifty years ago.
Never really knew him.
I feel empty, now, thanks for reminding me............
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:56, 8 replies)
Dad Vs Text
My dad had *just* about learnt how to operate his ancient Nokia mobile phone, but texting seems to still allude him.

Therefore, whenever the parentals go on holiday or a long journey, instead of getting something like 'have arrived in Prague ok, talk soon son', I got:


Highlights also include:


He also has more cute girls sub 30 on his facebook than I do.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:55, Reply)
Man of nature
My dad worked for his entire career as a forest ranger. Overall he enjoyed the job, partly because he was never really a people person, partly because he always had a keen interest in the world of nature. He is retired these days.

Although not very good at initiating conversations, he is polite enough to try. Often he will start a conversation by asking to the species of a particular bird or plant. The conversation will most often continue along the path of him informing the listener of the species and of any characteristica that separates it from similar species. These conversations have always been a bit annoying to my wife who *is* a people person but who more or less fits all of nature into the broad categories of plants, birds, and animals.

When my sister was married this summer, my dad held a carefully prepared and somewhat awkward speech. Being naturally uncomfortable at the centre of attention, he clung to his comfort zone by focusing the speech around the animal kingdom. It was short but memorable. He first told the anecdote of when my brother-in-law saw a mole for the first time. Being from Norway, where moles don't live in the wild, he had apparently imagined something the size of a small beaver. The most awkward -- but still animal related -- part of the speech was when he tried to assess the amount of camels that he would have had to give away when marrying away a 34-year old daughter (her age) compared to a younger one, had he lived in another culture. I think he concluded that it was definitely a good thing that he didn't.

Well, it was an entertaining speech.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:54, 1 reply)
Ta Daaa!!!
Bored already? Skip to the The Main Story then, I honestly don't mind.

The wife and I decided some years ago that we didn't want to do the baby thing but still wanted a family, so we decided to adopt. The whole process is a bit of a nightmare is actively designed to put you off (men are considered kiddie-fiddlers until they can prove otherwise) and it can take some time.
So after 18 months of Interesting Times we get to meet the two boys (Bert & Ernie, ages 5 and 3) and they move in, it sounds simple but trust me it is not. That was a year ago and it's been interesting... We always knew it would be as adoptive kids usually come bundled with a whole heap of software problems.

One of weird things about adopting is that you don't really know much about the kids before they come to you, no idea about what they've done, no clue about their favourite films etc. So it can be a bit of a muddle as you work out what works and what doesn't. You sometimes assume things about their experiences and now and again you get caught out, for instance when my wife and I took them to a fireworks night. Bert the eldest thought it was the best thing in the world, he'd never seen fireworks before. At the time he was 5 years old.
5 years old and had never seen fireworks, FFS.

Okay, onto the daft bit.
The Main Story:
So we went to Bristol recently, parked the car in a multi-story, down the stairs, look around, food, look at boats, had a nice day etc.
Time to go back to the car.
Get in lift, off we go, then get out. And Ernie (the youngest) stops.
Me: What's up, kiddo?
Ernie: ..... (looking around)
It's different.
Me: Eh?
Ernie: It's different Dad! It's magic!!! (lot's of smiling)
Me to the wife: Eh?
Wife: He's never been in a lift before...
Me: Ohhhhh....

The little fella now thinks lifts are the best, bless him.

There's still a little magic in the world, it also helps to have a kiddie to point it out to you when you start to forget.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:54, 9 replies)
The trials of being a dad.
Last weekend I went shopping with my two year old. We managed to blag a nice pink balloon from Boots and my son was over the moon with it all day. Come the end of the day and Mrs Mork is getting our boy into the car. Suddenly I see a big pink balloon floating gently away over my head. "Oh no!" says Mrs Mork. Then an anguished wail from our son, "Dad can get it!" - just as it disappears over the trees.

Ah, such faith he has in me! The look on his face broke my heart.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:43, 4 replies)
telephone conversation with my dad
This exchange happened a few years ago when I was living with my retired (and more than a little eccentric) dad.

MostlySunny: Hello

Dad: Hello my girl how are you?

MostlySunny: fine thanks

Dad: Good - say - did you buy a tortoise?

MostlySunny: er, no

Dad: are you sure?

MostlySunny: um, yes - fairly sure that I did not buy a tortoise

Dad: because there is a tortoise in the front garden

MostlySunny: oh

Dad: do you know how it got there?

MostlySunny: no...

Dad: It's a mystery - i can't work it out

MostlySunny: Maybe it crawled through the fence from the neighbours

Dad: but how would a tortoise get through a fence?

MostlySunny: er...

Dad: Maybe someone threw it over the wall

MostlySunny: possibly...

Dad: it's a total mystery

MostlySunny: mmm yes

*conversation returned a number of times to the mystery of how the tortoise got into the front garden - I just think it's hilarious that my dad thought that I might have bought a tortoise and then just failed to mention it...*

received a text message later that day "Tortoise turns out to be turtle from next door fishpond"
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:37, 4 replies)
oh, and also true
Jean Michel Jarre's dad invented the jar.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:35, 3 replies)
Well, it contains the word 'father'
"Darth Vader" may well translate as “Dark Father" in Dutch. However, in Afrikaans it translates as “Large Penis"

(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:33, 4 replies)
My young son was having a bath and, as young boys' are wont to do, he started playing with his balls. "What are these Daddy?" he asked me. I gave a biologically correct explanation of his gonads. When I'd finished he looked at me, then said "No Daddy, they're brains." And I couldn't convince him otherwise.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:32, 5 replies)
Laughter is the best medicine
Helping father clear up autumn leaves in back garden. Father leans rake against swings to free up hands for holding binbag. Unawares, son takes step forward and receives a MIGHTY RAKESPANG! to the side of the head. Son goes down like he's been halfbricked. Son wakes up to see father crying. 'It's ok dad, I'm not dead,' son reassures. Unnecessarily – for Father is crying with laughter.

Length? A lifetime of schadenfreude.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:31, 2 replies)
Dad vs. A taxi
Walking in the city centre one afternoon my dad started to cross over the road just a the lights were changing from red. A taxi driver who had now become stuck decided to show his annoyance at being delayed momentarily by blaring away on his horn (seriously, if he'd not done anything for half a second my dad would have been over the road and away). Upon hearing this, my dad proceeds to stand in the road for a good twenty to thirty seconds or so, all the time giving the cabbie the 'V for Victory' sign.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:30, Reply)
Dangling dad
We had a problem with our chimney so my Dad hired a scaffolding tower so he could fix it. When Mum saw how high it was she forbade him to climb up without first tying the tower to a tree, and with me there to hold onto it. I was sitting reading when Mum calls from the kitchen that Dad is shouting for me to go and help him. I amble round the side of the house to find the tower leaning at a 45 degree angle, secured only by a rope passing round a small ornamental cherry tree, and my Dad hanging off the top-most platform, legs dangling. Somehow I manage to right the tower and Dad climbs down. Shaking and white-faced he turned to me and said, "Don't say a word to your mother".
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:27, Reply)
You keep me hanging on ...
My dad and step mum have a somewhat tempestuous relationship. He left my mum after thirty two years for her and he was her first boyfriend (she is much younger than him). She also used to be a fat bird with little confidence, hence no dates, but lost a truck load of weight when she met my dad in order to ensnare him as (to quote her) "he said he didn't like fat girls" (way to go, Dad, you smooth talker, you.) Anyone could see this wasn't going to go smoothly but there was no telling either of them. Temporary bliss ensued (well, for them at least - the rest of us were left picking up the pieces of my mother).

A year or so after he had burned his bridges with my mum and moved in with her, she started an affair with someone at her work.
He went mental, phoned me up, asked me if I knew where he could get a gun (he planned to shoot her, him, and then himself), then when I declined to help with that little project, went around and threatened the bloke with a prize cut handsaw (honestly) and I had to go and fetch him from the cop shop. Anyhoo ...

As this progressed, he got more nutty, she got more nutty, and eventually he told her he was going to commit suicide during an argument. She responded that it was all fine and dandy for her if he did, and why don't he go and do that very thing right now. So, he went out to his shed and obtained a thick length of rope. With her tailing him, goading him on. He then proceeded upstairs to the landing where the hatch to the loft was. Her berating him. He went up the loft ladder and tied the rope around a pulley on a joist, leaving plenty to hang down through the loft aperture. Still she encourages him.
He then goes into the bedroom, gets her dressing table stool, and stands on it. She's still giving him lip. He ties the rope into a noose, puts it around his neck, and jumps off the stool. One would hope she had stopped nagging him by this point but knowing her, she likely hadn't.
For a second or so, he is suspended like some dreadful Christmas tree ornament. Then the true dad shoddy work effect takes over and the pulley pulls out of the joist, depositing him on the floor in a coughing heap. The rope coils down on top of him, followed by the heavy pulley, which in true Darwin Awards fashion gives him a nasty crack above the eye.

Her response is to laugh her head off like it is the funniest thing she has ever seen. And then he starts to laugh - one assumes through the choking. And there began - so they tell us - their road to saving their relationship.

It didn't stop her some years later having another affair and trying to stab him during an argument, but hey, by then we all figured this was par for the course.

The amusing (to me at least) addendum to this is that my dad is, and has been for many years now, a self employed builder. I have seen his work, and had some of it in my house (he works for free for me, so - what can I do ? I'm not exactly made of money). It is often shoddy and make do (as an example of some of the crap jobs he's done for me, he once put an electric shower in for me that was patently on the piss. Even my fiance could tell it, and he's blind !) And he never, ever finishes the job properly. The above tale just goes to show that this is plainly a widespread feature with him.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:27, 5 replies)
Tear tae a glass eye
My own dad was no' the best. Preferred my sister to me. Preferred playing with radio controlled aeroplanes to either of us. And preferred knobbing his bucket-of-smashed-crabs-fugly secretary to my Mum. Sure, marriages break down but his evil, endless legal shenanigans put Mum into mental hospital with the worst case of depression they'd seen in someone who didn't kill themselves. He left my life 25 years ago and his legacy has been to make sure I'm nothing like him.

I got my reward for that pledge in the form of some unusual validation from my bairns.

I take my kids to see Hibs every now and then. After taking them to a few games over the years, they sat me down for a talk.

"Dad," said my eldest, very seriously, "you know Hibs aren't very good at football, don't you?"

I couldn't really argue with that.

"Well, I only really go to see them because it makes you happy."

And, bless them, they still go with me - despite the awfulness of what's on the pitch.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:23, 4 replies)
Ken Dodd's Dad's dog is dead.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:17, 1 reply)
All Done!?
Last weekend, I was looking after my little boy whilst the missus was working at her little shop thing. I was playing Fallout: New Vegas on my PC and my lad (2 years old) was mucking about in the periphery of my vision. Suddenly the little fellow comes running up to me, clutching his hand and crying. Somehow he'd managed to cut himself on the underside of his hand, a big cut that looked like it was painful but not serious.

I picked him up and took him to the bathroom, I washed the cut and applied a plaster. My little boy was crying and crying, asking for his mummy, and saying "All Done?!" - his all purpose phrase for "had enough tea now thanks" and "you've dangled me upside down for long enough thanks" or "the telly show is over". All Done.

Except now he was expressing in his own little vocabulary that he was "All Done" with the pain now thanks, and there was no way he could understand that it would take a while to feel better. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of his voice and the look on his face at that moment.

Negative reinforcement at its best. I'll never take my eyes off him again. Until I download 'Batman Arkham Asylum' off Steam that is...
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:11, 2 replies)
I have plenty for this week, with which I will wait until it calms down, but as a teaser, have an exchange between Mrs Vagabond and I in the first week of our relationship.
A Vagabond: *wurbles on about something or other*

Mrs Vagabond: You're weird.

A Vagabond: I'm not weird! It's everyone else who's weird!

Mrs Vagabond: Well you're the only boy I've ever met with two mummies, two daddies and another one on the way.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 12:07, 26 replies)
my dad has a love/hate relationship with elton john.
he has always been a massive fan, but was horrified when elton revealed that he was a prostate tickler.

so, a few years ago at christmas, i walked into the living room to find my dad staring at the ceiling whilst elton plinky-plonked away on the tv.

'what on earth are you doing?'

'well, i still like his music but i'm not going to look at him any more. i don't like the thought of where those big fat fingers have been.'

my dad. the man. the legend.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 11:57, 7 replies)
Not mine
And a bit tenuous. Probably goes more in the graffiti qotw from a few weeks ago.

Messy writing on the toilet wall:
"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful, hate me because I did your dad"

To which some wag had answered:
"Mum, you're drunk, go home."
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 11:55, Reply)
My dad is sometimes first...

EDIT: Apparently, it's hereditary.
(, Thu 25 Nov 2010, 11:53, 4 replies)

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