Today is Father’s Day. A day to celebrate the man who planted his seed inside your mother and stuck around to help cultivate the fruit born of their union. (You may take offence, but I happen to like fruit.)
Fathers come in all shapes, sizes and temperaments. My own lovable Quebecois father can be in a fit of rage one moment and instantly burst out in fits of laughter the next. Home life could have been much more turbulent with a French man and a British woman under one roof, were it not for their great love for one another. They are quite the pair. He, vertically challenged and a tad portly, and her, tall and willowy. Sexual expression and knowledge always flowed openly in our home. It never shocked me when my father would crane his face towards my mother’s ear and half whisper, “Tonight I go up on you. You look forward to dat, eh?” And my mother’s usual response, “Get the ladder.”
So, to all fathers, I’d just like to say: Happy Father’s Day.