Dad

No title good enough
Dad, look at the height of the tower I just built,
the length of the track I weaved amongst the legs of the dining room table.
No dad, I did not scratch the furniture. Mum said it was ok. I’ll pack it away.
Look at the camp I made out of blankets and coats dad.
Dad, I’ll be cowboys if you’ll be Indians dad?
Dad?

Dad I rode 5 miles on my own today. I took photos of the ducks dad.
In black and white. I think they came out really well dad.
Dad? Do you like them dad? No I did not get the camera wet dad.

I know a guy who knew a girl who knew a bloke that once heard
you might be proud of me.

Dad, I have won the Nobel Prize for the world’s greatest son,
the gold medal for being caring and generous,
the Oscar for best actor in life and the comedy award
for best impersonator.

I cured cancer, I beat world hunger and I have created peace on earth
and all before lunch today dad.
I have climbed Everest to reach you dad, but when I got to the top you were still not there.

There are no higher mountains to climb, no more disease to cure, no more hungry people dad.
No more places to look for you, no more places to search for me.

I know a guy who knew a girl who knew a bloke that once heard
you might be proud of me.

I don’t think its true. It can’t have been you.