I totally forgot/didn’t even realize that it was Father’s Day this weekend until Mrs. Huttsez mentioned it. And I’m quite astonished by my mental omission of THE GREATEST DAY OF THE YEAR. How could I have forgotten?!
Well, when I started the blog I was deeply unemployed. Now I’m working my arse off in bill paying bliss. I haven’t touched a computer in almost three weeks, no facebooking or twitter. I’ve just been too knackered to write. Ah, well, you gotta pay to play, or some shit like that....
So, I’m sitting here on Father’s Day Eve, writing to you from the sweltering gazebo of Stone Hill because I suddenly found myself with some time. Time that has been claimed because I have made a proclamation, inspired by real events.
Real Events That Inspired My “Proclamation”
I have a friend whose birthday is two days before Father’s Day, so it becomes Father’s Day Weekend. Hmmm.
Another friend took off camping with a bunch of other dudes and some beers- left the wife and kids at home because it’s Father’s Day Weekend at his house, too. Hmmmmmm.
I watched the kids this morning while my wife went yardsaleing, and again tonight when Mrs. H goes out for her big high-school-reunion-planning session-potluck-dinner-event. Hmmmmmmmmm.
My birthday is Christmas Day- a fairly shite birthday, I can assure you.
When I suggested to Mrs. Huttsez this morning that we adopt a “Father’s Day Weekend” approach to THE GREATEST DAY OF THE YEAR, she basically went “Pfffffffffffffffttt”. Which triggered the proclamation.
It went something like this.
“Pfffffffffffffttt, you say? Very well then, gather ‘round your Lord and Master, Clan Huttsez, for I am about to make a proclamation!” The children looked at me with a kind of “WTF is he on about now” expression, while Mrs. Huttsez rolled her eyes and tried to hide a laugh.
“From this day forth, Clan Huttsez shall observe the sacred happening of Father’s Day Weekend. I hereby decree that my shite birthday celebration shall be forever placed two days before Father’s Day, and that I am to be freed from the bondage of housework for the whole bloody weekend. Your Lord and Master does not require gifts. He simply asks for a bit of time off. I HAVE SPOKEN! IT SHALL FOREVER BE SO!”
I did the ancient gesture of the Clan Huttsez (wank hand) to seal my oath, and looked at my wife to see what she thought of my antics.
“Why not? Happy Father’s Day Weekend!” said the lovely Mrs. H.
Humor wins again. It was a lovely moment, and on her return from the “yard sale odyssey”, Mrs Huttsez presented me with a 1971 Raleigh cruiser that’s only a tune up away from being a super sweet ride! The unbelievable part is that she got it for $25- she truly is the best shopper on the face of the earth. It was the perfect way to start Father’s Day Weekend.
Thank you Mrs. H, you continue to stun me with your wonderful spirit. Where did I go right?!
Happy Father’s Day Weekend to all my brothers. Now stop reading. It is time for you to venture forth from the computer and claim your ancient rites. I speak of the rites laid down by “The Ancient Fathers”, specifically number three. Here it is verbatim-
“You shall go to your woman and claim the rights of The Father on the ‘Father’s Solstice’. You shall tell her to adorn herself in right sexy gear, and to prepare the bedchamber for some proper action. The lava lamp shall be lit, and the Barry White shall play. Go forth and get your freak on. It’s worth a shot anyway.”
That’s it for now.
This is where I tweet- @huttsez
If you don’t “like” the Huttsez facebook page, then it means you hate fathers, and want them all to burn in an eternal hellfire of ultimate damnation You decide...
Thanks for reading. See you soon.