I always have a good old chuckle when Father's Day rolls around. Because, as women know, every day is father's day.
As I suspected, Father's Day came after Mother's Day. It was thought up by some duck in Spokane, USA (where else) in honour of her father.
But I prefer to think that digruntled blokes lobbied for their own special day.
Here's the conversation that led to its creation:
Trev: Geez mate, the missus gets a day off. But what about us?
Gazza: Mate, I reckon we deserve some sort of recognition for all the stuff we do.
*There is silence. Trev and Gazza have a scratch and contemplate their schooners.*
Trev: What do we do?
Gazza: Well, last night I sit down with little Jay and we watch The Simpsons. The whole episode.
Trev: Mate, that's beautiful.
Gazza: And yourself, mate?
Trev: Yeah, well... The missus is about to take out the garbage and I say, 'Let me do that love.' I mean, I'm on my way out anyway. No wuckin forries.
Gazza: Mate, you're a deadset legend.
Trev: Mate, aren't we all?
And that's how it came to pass that Father's Day was instituted as a national day to recognise the hard yakka that goes into being a dad and a hubby in AUSTRALIA, land of the friggin' free ride for every bloke with breath left in his lungs.
Some years ago I gave Spanner this fantastic card for Father's Day by a cartoonist called Naf. It features a paunchy, balding man wearing a jumper and plaid slacks. He is standing next to a vacuum cleaner and punching his fists in the air in a sign of victory. His wife is seated on the lounge with a book. She looks less than impressed.
The caption reads: 'John turned off the vacuum and waited for his medal.'
For me, that sums up Father's Day.
Enjoy Sunday. You know who'll be doing all the hard yakka!