This week I thought I’d write this blog in the style of my Dad- but no one wants a blog that’s written on the back of an envelope that also contains several anecdotes from yesterday’s The Times obituary page.

Or do you?

You’ll probably love it. Can I get you a wee drink whilst you’re sat there? Hey, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere…etc.

So you probably know that it’s Father’s Day on Sunday . My dad doesn’t really ‘agree’ with Father’s Day. He thinks it’s a made up day. But my Dad also loves a celebration and graciously and bigheartedly receives pressies;

‘Oh love, that’s great…fantastic, superb’

And then the gift gets puts somewhere unknown never really to be seen again. A nice jumper...rarely worn. A book… unflicked. A foot spa… you know where this is going. Unless it’s whisky. Dad can always be relied on to open whiskey. Especially when it’s too late and you’re too drunk. But that’s probably the best time for whisky, right? And it never affects him a jot because he’s completely infallible. As he always has been. He will be last man standing but still do all the washing up and be the first one up in the morning.

I always struggle to buy my dad gifts for Father’s day. Because he’s not one of those dads that the card companies seem to think he is. The gardening paraphernalia, the beer tankard and the cricket bat? Who are those dads? The dads who are unapproachable or stuffy? That’s not my Dad. Why isn’t there a card for someone who would literally drop everything to be beside you? Who, whenever you ask him to help you do some ridiculous task like drive a van full of marshmallows to Edinburgh at 1am (In a 7.5 ton truck) is already putting his crap trainers on. The sort of dad who you can spend 8 hours chatting to, not remember anything you talked about but still have the best of times with. That dad. The dad that always lets you have the punchline. Who listens the hardest and laughs the loudest when you’re speaking.

So, no, Father’s Day doesn’t really matter - if you have one of those dads that anything you gave them, made them, wished them would be ‘Oh love, that’s great…fantastic, superb'.

But if you’re looking for inspiration…the last few weeks we’ve been lighting our fire pit and toasting marshmallows in the evenings. Sitting with blankets around our shoulders, chatting, having one last drink before we go inside, watching the flicker of the flames, chatting about people we know or what we’re doing ‘after all this’. Or playing ‘fantasy lockdown.' And those have been the best nights. I’ve been so lucky to have lockdown with my family and, especially, with my Dad. So why not send some marshmallows. We’ll throw in the skewers. And when you get a chance to get around the fire and have those chats - I hope they’re as good as ours have been. 

Enter the code ' dad ' into the checkout and we'll pop in a FREE bundle of skewers