Father’s Day is upon us, and the other adult over here has just had a birthday so I’ve only just given him yet another checked shirt that looks just like every other checked shirt in his wardrobe.
What to give a man these days?
A friend asked the same question this morning. Surely, we said, we can think up some more original ideas for gifts for our other halves other than pyjamas, a book or tickets to Nick Cave. Here are some we came up with:
Have the world understand men can and do parent and housekeep and share in household duties and have been doing so for many years.
It’s no biggie. My dad made our lunches every day and took us to school and hung out the washing, and no one congratulated him for it or put him in a glossy Sunday magazine. The moment everyone stops assuming there’s something unusual or to be celebrated about a man doing an equal share at home will be a gift to all of us.
The ability to hold back.
Not all men struggle with this, of course, but I’ve just been looking at horrendous images posted by American actor Christy Mack after being beaten black and blue by her ex-boyfriend, a martial arts pro who goes by the name War Machine. It’s not the most endearing moniker, but an indication of his level of strength.
Mack’s pictures and the alarming statistic that, on average, one Australian woman a week is killed by her partner, usually in her own home, is something we all should talk about on important days such as Father’s Day.
There is a moment when your brain decides whether to act on anger or not. Some men need to learn how to work the off button, and fast.
A cure for the scourge that is man flu.
It’s just not fair that their flu is worse than everyone else’s. I’ve just come back from the chemist, where I was dispatched with some urgency to buy more man-flu tablets. The chemist told me, and he is a he, the existence of man flu is medically proven – he said female hormones prevent us from feeling flu-pain the way men do. I’m not buying it, but I do think we need to find a cure for this insufferable manifestation.
It would also be good if we could find some sort of preventative measure that could put a stop to the loud, I-am-dying moan the man-flu sufferer in this house is compelled to expel every time he enters the room I am in, seemingly to remind me he is having a man-flu episode. That would be more a gift to me, though.
I know mine would also love matching socks that can, in some clever way, clip themselves together in the wash, and are marked Monday through Sunday.
He’d also be happy with an endless supply of Golden Gaytime ice-creams (my New York friend said they’d never get away with such a name where she comes from, and yet they continue to endure here. In fact, in our house we call them daddy-ice-cream) and beer, but only – and this is apparently important – beer of a very specific kind. And man-flu tablets.
He’d also like the gift of knowing that everyone in this house, including the dogs and in particular himself, given he is in the midst of the worst ever man flu, is going to be OK.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there and I hope you don’t have man flu.
