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Fuck Politeness

This is a revolution, not a public relations movement

So I’ve probably talked about all these things on here before.

That I live in a Stepford-Wives/Pleasantville type of community and every father’s day there’s a bbq for the dads before school starts. Big bbq breakfast, games and paper plane comps, bonding with kids etc.

Mothers get to pay $20 to go to a shopping night in the school hall. Screw the ‘Hey, you’re awesome let’s serve you food and let you bond with the kids’, nope…pay US money to come spend YOUR free time SHOPPING in the school hall for stuff you don’t want or need. I’d rather eat my own shit. I hate shopping at the best of times and I don’t pay a cover charge for it. Ever. Also it’s full of the tupperware/avon/nutrimetics bullshit wares.

I asked last year why the mums don’t get a breakfast. The answer was mums would not eat a bbq breakfast (I call bullshit) and ‘who’d run it’? (The DADS couldn’t be expected to take time out on their way to work to cook shit for a bunch of chicks! They have like REAL jobs…except for when they’re eating bacon. Then they can be a little late)

That good dads make me sad. I know, it’s unworthy. But when I look at a man relishing his role as father, looking at his child with love and affection and clearly being a loving, responsible parent, I get this rush of emotion: and while it’s not as hard edged as jealousy, that’s basically it – my son doesn’t have that. And I don’t have that. The support and shared experience of parenting a child with a father who cares. Or at all. And we never will. And of COURSE I want for all those kids to have dads like that – but, well, it makes me a wee bit sad. I’d have liked to be sharing parenting, taking delight from sitting back a moment and watching my child and partner interact.

That my own father is a slightly deranged dysfunctional alcoholic and I have little to no connection to him. Little? Yeah even that’s stretching it. I feel pretty much nothing.

So you know my life is fucking chaos right now and I’ve not had enough sleep for a month and I’m running on empty in all kinds of ways and because it’s father’s day I’ve got to spend money I don’t have on a gift he won’t use to show affection I don’t feel for a man who’s not there. And (after being up at 2:00 a.m working on the essay) I’ve got to get up early and put aside my essay (due tomorrow) to take the day to travel up there for lunch to present the charade with fanfare.


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