Does anyone else follow shitmydadsays ?
(By the way – since the stepboys came along I have making big big big HUGE efforts to tone down the odd curse. But insist on linking to profane – funny, but profane – websites. Sorry, people. Doing my best, here.)
Hilarious. Especially to my family. Especially at Christmas.
Sometimes I think we should set up some kind of (Stuff) My Dad Says collective.
My own Dad’s mantra at this time of year is Bah… HUMBUG. He doesn’t hesitate to trot out that puppy around toddlers, four-year-olds, Sisters of Mercy. Anytime is a good time to spread misery and despond, as long as it’s Christmas.
But tonight’s contribution was pretty cute.
To set the scene:
Fireworks popping like crazy in the background, much to the discomfort of the Fluffy White Dog, who admittedly is somewhat neurotic. During a particularly big thunderstorm last year, she tried to take cover under a broom.
But I digress.
So, anyway, the fireworks were exploding merrily. The dog was trembling, just lightly.
The Dad chose this moment to say:
Hear that, Fluffy White Dog? That noise out there? They’re shooting dogs, that’s what that noise is.
Fluffy white dogs, as it happens.
I’m just glad he manages to contain the sardonics when the stepboys are around. Kids, as all you Actual Mums know, can be pretty literal. And this is a family where our grandfather used to kiss us goodnight as children with the blessing:
Close your eyes or I’ll have to hit you with my stick with nails in it!
Nice one, Gramps.
On the other end of the spectrum is my Mamma. She’s bought each of her six(!) stepgrandkids a Fair Trade Christmas ornament to hang on the tree, and is currently in the process of sewing little calico bags to store them in, to be embroidered with each of their names.
How these two people have sustained a devoted marriage of over thirty-five years standing is still a bit of a boggle to me sometimes.
May the Lovely Man and I do likewise!
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