» Dad stories

There are a few Dad stories I could tell
but one that happened this year sticks to mind.

My old man is a hard working bloke, always has been. Left school with nothing and basically went to night school when I was small to learn the skills to make something of himself. I remember him working in our garage every night during one winter with nothing but a tiny heater, doing odd electrical jobs to make a few quid on the side of his full time job. Some people wonder where I get my hard working nature from, well that's where.

Like I say, he worked his socks off to provide for the family and still does. Earlier this year I bought my first place and was spending most nights round there painting and decorating before I moved in. This was on top of 12 hour shifts and feeling run down from a cold.

One night I'm painting after work for a few hours and I get to the point where I just don't have the energy to carry on, even though the hall is half finished. I'd have just gone to bed, but I have no furniture in my new house. So, rather than sleep on the floor I get in the car and drive 30 minutes to mum & dads house, where I've been staying after moving out of my rented flat last year.

I wander in the door just as he's going to bed. He takes one look at me, tells me I look like crap (cheers dad!), then he stays up to cook me some tea (can't remember what now but it was just what I needed) and listen to my decorating/job woes. I go to bed, well fed, and have a good nights sleep.

Next day at work is a nightmare and after 12 hours I really don't want to go back and do more painting, but again I was brought up to be hard working so I go to my new house to get on with it.

I walk in the door and what do I see - hall is painted perfectly, everything has been cleaned and put away and all the odd electrical jobs I've been putting off have been done. Also, there is now a healthy supply of biccys in the kitchen and some fold away chairs have appeared. In one of said chairs is my Dad, looking rather pleased with himself and the brew he has put on.

After hearing my woes the night before, he'd cancelled his plans for the evening and left work an hour early to come round & finish last nights work. He'd also done enough so I could have a night off and give me a head start on the next weeks worth of jobs.

My reaction "what are you looking so smug about?"
His reaction to this "you're welcome you sod!"

We don't always get on as we are chalk and cheese in many respects and have nearly come to blows in the past, but when I needed him he was there without even being asked and that's what this pro-dad story is all about :)
(Sat 27th Nov 2010, 1:45, More)

» Spoilt Brats

You gotta love 'em!
Three things spring to mind when I think of spoiled brats:

1. On a train coming back from a works do in Cardiff to London after a heavy night of drinking, I had to contend with 3 noisy little feckers constantly demanding things and throwing tantrums right next to me. Parents (tofts is about the only word I can think of) did sweet fa apart from what their spawn demanded. After about an hour, I manage to get eye contact with one of their parents:

Parent - "I'm terribly sorry about them"
Me - "Never mind, at least I don't have to take them home with me"
Parent - stoney silence followed by embarrased expression

2. Went down to the south west to get a car and just before I was due to get off I stood up to walk to the door. A bunch of kids, obviously sporty types or something, had put their kit bags in the passageway and there was no way past.

I asked the nearest one if he minded moving the bags so I could get past. He gave me a filthy look and then continued talking to his impressed mates. So I did what any responsible adult would do - I walked over their bags, making sure I stomped my size 12 boots down onto each one. Then I stood at the door glaring at them and none of them would make eye contact with me or even speak. I even gave them a wink as I walked past their window on the train platform - childish I know, maybe even not a spoilt kid story but it comes to mind when I think of ignorant little specs.

3. Most recently, a couple of city kids found themselves at my local train station. They were obviously well off (clothes, watches etc) and in their late teens. What they couldn't fathom was why this pesky commoner was denying them egress from the station:

Kid "I don't understand what your problem is"
Guard "Well this is a tube ticket"
Kid "So?"
Guard "So this is Chelmsford"
Kid "And?"
Guard "Well, you're about 30 miles outside of London"
Kid "Well no-one told me that!"

Made me chuckle as the kid was trying to throw a strop to get out of paying and the guard was having none of it.
(Sun 12th Oct 2008, 18:25, More)

» Broken Promises

Yes, you can has cheezeburger....
Silly kittehs lolwtf!!!!11
(Fri 3rd Dec 2010, 10:03, More)

» Unusual talents

A trio of completely useless talents
1. I can remember the lyrics to any song after only hearing it once. Not that impressive but good fun on a road trip when the same annoying song is on the radio four or five times during the drive and you can drive your travelling partners mad with it.

2. I can do all sorts of complex math in my head, whether I want to or not. Can't grasp algebra or trig or any of that useful stuff for building bridges or planes or massive killer robots, but I can put together a set of numbers or analysis in my head in an instant and blurt out the answer. Makes me feel that I'm living a Tyler Durden style crazy double life, except instead of being a depressed office slave with a super cool fighty alter ego I'm a coffee-addicted zombie office clunge with a shouty Rainman style alter ego who surfaces in the presence of math problems.

3. I used to know if the tv was on in my mum & dads house, with no sound on, by the tingle I used to get in the spiney part of my neck. Doesn't seem to work with flatscreens, so another skill lost to modern technology!
(Mon 22nd Nov 2010, 21:57, More)