I’m not really one for days of celebration; there are far too many to keep up with. For every distinct, sincere and sensible one there are seventeen other silly ones that some berk in a beard in a boardroom decided was a great idea such as Spinning Teatowels Day or Tap Someone on the Shoulder and Wink at a Vegetable Day. These continue to regularly appear on my Twitter feed as though I should give two hoots. I wouldn’t even give one, barely half.
So when it comes to Father’s Day I suppose I should offer up both hoots, and I do. I load up both barrels of the hoot rifle and let rip with all the riposte and energy I’m known for. It was to my complete amusement and amazement then when the following item was placed in my hands by Reuben approximately two days before it was even Father’s Day. He was that excited he couldn’t wait until the correct day:
What does one say when presented with a set of marshmallows containing one’s son’s face in various different guises? We took the piss out of my brother for wanting a cake with his own face on, which he eventually managed to obtain thanks to Asda, and this is essentially the same technology. So why is it different? John did always love himself and this was something more honest, more wholesome and less narcissistic. The boy had come up with the idea all on his own. Where he had heard that someone could scan an image of his face onto confectionary I don’t particularly want to know, but what a present!
I’m almost hesitant to actually eat them. Luckily you’re also given a scan of the individual photos so that once you do pop them in your face hole you can remember them forever and always. You will forgive me then if I do disappear in a timely manner to attend to an unconfirmed previous engagement…