I’m turning into my dad

My father with my son. Am I turning into my dad?!

It has come to my attention that I’m turning into my dad. This isn’t a bad thing at all, the man’s a legend who I look up to. Well, I would do if he weren’t shorter than me.

Anyway, pretty much every day this week, I’ve found myself saying or doing something that is very him. I suppose the signs have been there for a while.

I’ve become more ranty about minor things like strangers putting non-recyclable stuff in our green waste bin and more sweary about the twatty fuckheads running the country for starters.

Last weekend, we were getting close to the end of the day when I had an overwhelming urge to start rearranging the loft. To be fair, it needed doing as we’re getting insulation put in soon, but most people would surely have done it earlier in the day.

Disappearing to carry out jobs of this nature at odd times is definitely something I’ve inherited from him. That and tidying away things into random places. Then blaming other people for being messy when they complain something has gone missing. I also found myself idly peeling off the previous owner’s horrible textured bathroom wallpaper while cleaning my teeth the other morning.

Then there’s the same confounding logic he used on me when I was little coming to the fore when I’m engaged in a battle of wills with Dylan.

When I was about four years old, I had a duvet cover that had stripes on one side and flowers on the other. Being a typical boy, I didn’t like the side with the latter on it. I distinctly remember one conversation with him in which I didn’t want the flowers on display.

I asked him to turn it over and, probably because he couldn’t be arsed with the dithering that would inevitably ensue, he said: “Ah, but if you keep it the way it is, the stripes will be around you.”

WTF? It worked though! A proper Jedi mind trick, I’m sure you’ll agree. In a spooky echo of this, I caught myself using the same bamboozling approach with Dylan when he didn’t want to be tucked in at bedtime. He looked confused but conformed. Weird!

The true clincher came a couple of days ago, however. It’s my birthday in a little under a month so Kate asked what I would like. “Oh nothing thanks,” was my shockingly natural and prompt reply. I remember one year when I was little, we really had to push Dad into putting something forward. He eventually gave in and nominated a pair of slippers. The extravagant so and so!

I’m quite chuffed about this all in a way. He continues to be an awesome dad, so I’m taking the inheritance of his strange foibles as a good thing. Just as long as I don’t start putting people on speaker phone when they call…

How about you? Are you turning into your mum or dad?

Comments

  1. HappyMum

    Love this! My son is 15 months and starting to test his boundaries a little. When I attempt a ‘no’ based statement, I speak but it’s my mother’s voice, not mine! Scary!

  2. Suzanne

    I am definitely turning into my mother and I hate it! I hear these things coming out of my mouth and can picture her saying the exact same thing to me when I was a kid….sad but inevitable reality!

  3. Pingback: Like father, like son - Family life - Diary of the Dad

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