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I know what I know

If you've been reading this blog for a while (okay, even the last few posts), you'd know I regularly ponder the dodgy choices made by yours truly that have left me in a awful situations. The fact that these choices also lead to posts of dubious quality but fruity language is cold comfort. The fact remains. To quote Forrest Gump, I am not a smart man.

Why? As I write this, it is a peaceful Sunday night. At my age, this should signal much conviviality. Instead, I find myself in the bedroom, sitting hermit-fashion on the bed, shovelling an early dinner out of a bowl (plates are overrated), moodily tracking the sporting murder at the Emirates Stadium and listening to people 30 years older than me having the time of their lives in the living room. You heard me right.

The pater is hosting one of his quarterly parties. Mind you, calling it a party is rather generous. Because it is more a guys' night out (for everyone but the pater of course), involving booze, fatty foods they wouldn't touch normally with a bargepole and a lot of laughter. Here I am, a respectable (reasonably) member of the early 30s crowd, pootling around the house with only the gentle shushing of the rain outside for company. There they are, men way past the hill (and in some cases, paunches bearing a startling resemblance to the aforementioned geographic feature) cheerfully quaffing down stuff and living it up.

As I heard them chuckle helplessly, I couldn't help feel jealous at first. But then, I heard the pater laugh too. Not something we hear very often nowadays. And when I think about that fact, I am suddenly and simultaneously shameful for being petty-minded and happy because he has friends who will make him laugh every now and then. It seems to be a funny role-reversal in my life. I have become (or, as my "friends" would no doubt remark, am) more of the concerned yet curmudgeonly father, while, for one evening, he's become the carefree young man entertaining his friends.

Considering the life we've had, he's had, I'd have to be a Grade 1 asshole to begrudge him this moment. So, I will end this here and go do what any parent would in the situation. Check on the boys, ask them if they need anything and serve them some snacks. That's a choice I wouldn't regret for a minute.

Song for the moment: Have a nice day - Stereophonics  

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