Happy Father's Day?
Our first father’s day. R has been talking about it for months. A day of pampering just for him! A celebration of his paternal triumphs! Certainly, an occasion for fellatio! Turns out it wasn’t quite as lovely as he had hoped. I intended to serve him breakfast in bed. Instead I served him my dinner. I vomited all over him before I could move. It’s your unborn twins way of saying Happy Father’s Day, I said (through chunks of last night’s pasta). He would have preferred a card.
The day looked like it was going to get better. O had framed a picture of herself and written a lovely message for her dad (amazing how similar her handwriting is to mine) . It read:
I love you daddy. I smile when you come home. Please don’t bang my head.
She was referring to a dreadful incident a week ago when R accidentally slammed her into an awning. I felt like killing him until I saw the look on his face. Whatever nasty insults I could hurl at him wouldn't come close to what he was flagellating himself with.
So, yes, to show the love of my life I appreciate how great a father he is, I chucked up my innards on him and wrote a passive aggressive card. Blame the pregnancy hormones.
Luckily his own family was going to get me off the hook and upset him even further. His parents phoned from the Emergency ward in the hospital. They’d admitted his dad as he was concerned that he may have had a heart attack. We spent the rest of the day waiting by the phone for updates. His father spent the day in hospital being observed. Turns out his heart is okay but he has a killer case of halitosis.
We ended the day with me vomiting up dinner, kissing R goodnight (fellatio was out of the question) and pretending I was asleep when O started crying. (It's a game we play. Whoever pretends to be asleep better doesn't have to settle her).
R made me promise to not let him get excited for next year’s father’s day.
The day looked like it was going to get better. O had framed a picture of herself and written a lovely message for her dad (amazing how similar her handwriting is to mine) . It read:
I love you daddy. I smile when you come home. Please don’t bang my head.
She was referring to a dreadful incident a week ago when R accidentally slammed her into an awning. I felt like killing him until I saw the look on his face. Whatever nasty insults I could hurl at him wouldn't come close to what he was flagellating himself with.
So, yes, to show the love of my life I appreciate how great a father he is, I chucked up my innards on him and wrote a passive aggressive card. Blame the pregnancy hormones.
Luckily his own family was going to get me off the hook and upset him even further. His parents phoned from the Emergency ward in the hospital. They’d admitted his dad as he was concerned that he may have had a heart attack. We spent the rest of the day waiting by the phone for updates. His father spent the day in hospital being observed. Turns out his heart is okay but he has a killer case of halitosis.
We ended the day with me vomiting up dinner, kissing R goodnight (fellatio was out of the question) and pretending I was asleep when O started crying. (It's a game we play. Whoever pretends to be asleep better doesn't have to settle her).
R made me promise to not let him get excited for next year’s father’s day.
posted by Yidchick at 9:52 pm
3 Comments:
Best to start out with a crummy Father's Day...each successive one will now feel all the sweeter!
Ooooh That's one helluva special day.
im afraid to write about sex... lol..how do you manage...what if my family was to find my blog... i should get over myself...
Why is it that many special days don't work out --- but it is great to plan and then as the years go by you remember --- and you reflect and roll..haha..and often wonder about the whens and whys... Father's Day in Aussie is in Sept...here in June..interesting. thanks for the teaching
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