Grubby food-stained jumper and baggy jeans amuse and annoy
but he taxis them around anyhow.
Old man jokes and broken spectacles,
he sees through their bravado and banter,
kicks them into touch and bowls another googly.
The irritable impatience and matching bowel rumble in the darkness
as he waits to pick them up from yet another party collection point.
A man of few words; his quiet pride speaks volumes,
rarely revealing the depth of his love
but it remains unconditional, unrivalled and understated.
Dad dancing, bathroom singing and reminiscing of youthful sporting prowess…
“Have I told you of the time I ……?”
His offspring snigger behind his broad back
and those shoulders that once carried weary bodies are now redundant.
He watches them grow up and away, knowing his value will be celebrated
only when they too become embarrassing dads.
All in good time my sons.
All in good time.
Dee Russell-Thomas writes “This is dedicated to my husband, Steve, father of our three sons now 21, 26 and 32 years old. Often the butt of their humour with his flat cap, old fashioned expressions and repetitive story telling of past experiences, he nevertheless spent hours reading to them when they were young, bringing presents back from his overseas trips, and ferrying them to endless football, cricket and rugby matches. As they grow older they are beginning to appreciate him more….and so they should!