Firstly I should say that I really enjoy father’s day. I get presents and shit so it’s kinda like an extra birthday that I’ve managed to piggy back in with the birth of my first son* Sebastian. We also backed him up with the birth of our second son Obi, just in case Seba forgot.
This year I asked the boys if they would cook me breakfast in bed. They both agreed to the terms and conditions of my father’s day. Obi though, did query whether I would be cooking them breakfast in bed on “kids day”. Apparently that comes next year he told me. “I should certainly be able to handle that”, I said.
We agreed that a good fathers day breakfast would include bacon, sausage, black pud, beans, tea and fresh juice. Hopefully not all on the same plate.
You can imagine my disappointment when this is what I received-
1. A book devoted entirely to ham
2. A bottle of whiskey devoted entirely to me
3. A platter of BLT goodness. See pic below
Seriously I could not have asked for anything more. And why am I telling you about my father’s day? I just am. It’s a kickass breakfast for any old time, looks good, can feed a crowd and you get everyone to put there own sandwich together so the work is theirs and you have more time to sit back with a bottle of whiskey and a book about ham.
Thanks boys. Loved it.
*first actual child confirmed to be mine.