There is something rather special about Dad’s

Or at least there was about mine

Forever the comedian in that special dad way

Someone who would say to me your hair looks like

A spider’s lounge come here or you look like you

Have been dragged through a hedge backwards  

The D.I.Y. aficionado who could almost turn out anything

From a few pieces of wood

I was never allowed to mention

The time he put his foot through the bathroom ceiling

Something he had always cautioned me against

When going into the loft

But it was funny to see his leg hanging down

Like it belonged to somebody else

 

Like many dads of his generation

He had a shed

A fortress a bastion against whatever life threw at him

With a range of tools for many things

Some of which I never knew

He showed me how to use a drill a screw driver a

Hammer and chisel

How to put up a shelf

Mix concrete and cement lay a path

He had an incredible collection of nails screws bolts and nuts

Locks handles and padlocks of all shapes and sizes

All labelled in appropriate size tins and boxes

All kept just in case

I looked in the garage today

Oh, crikey I’ve turned into my dad