It's Father's Day tomorrow, that glorious creation of the greetings card industry that causes those who have lost their fathers to miss them even more than normal, and those fathers who don't live with their children any more to miss them even more than normal. It's a great example of corporate greed increasing the sum of human misery. Nice work.
And those of us who *do* have fathers have to dash out of all day meetings at lunchtime, write cards leaning on litter bins in Cardiff city centre, scrounge stamps from colleagues and search forlornly for postboxes.
My dad is *great*, knows I think so, and has never said that he would be hurt if he didn't get a Father's Day card, but I suspect a tiny irrational part of him would be. So I always try and send one, even though I am disgusted by the whole business and the fact that every single card features a football, a golf ball, a teddy bear or a joke about Dad's wallet. Gack.
I also noted a new trend yesterday, that of the 'you're like a Dad to me' card. This, presumably, has been introduced so that kids with a dad and a stepdad will buy *two* cards, and a whole new cohort of men can be mildly disappointed when there isn't an envelope next to their Frosties tomorrow morning.
I bought the teddy bear card and wrote in it 'Dad, you're like a Dad to me'. Made me laugh, anyway.
joella
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