My Daddy’s like Google he knows everything ©
By Michael Casey
My kids were in London today for a day out with my wife and one of her friends. Me I stayed home I’d picked up some bug last night , so I nursed my bug.
The girls were all excited when they came home and my smallest one was telling a story. It began with a box fell from the sky, but it was no ordinary box, it was a magic box. So I told her to keep the idea in her head and she could write it out in the morning, it was late now. Her bigger sister observed that when she wrote she wrote all posh, but when she talked she did not. I then tried to explain the difference between :- speaking, writing, presenting, teaching. Some people may be able to do one but this does not prove/equate to being able to do another. Then my smallest let loose with the line that I was Google and should be a teacher and that I should write kids books. I’ll do anything IF somebody sponsors me, or becomes my patron, though in my case it would be Saint Rita or Saint Jude themselves who’d help. Thinking back to 1969 I did win a Junior Free Handwriting Competition, I have the certificate somewhere, Brook Bond sponsored it, I’d forgotten about it till just now.
Daddy, any daddy has to try and be an encyclopaedia to give his kids some information, in some SciFi film or it may have been in Dr Who I saw a battered Robot became the teacher, with holograms too. If only I could be some sort of magician, then that would be swell as the Americans say, card tricks with lessons on, slight of hand passing messages of learning. I am award that I have to try hard and give good information out, otherwise 1984 becomes a reality, rubbish becomes fact, and facts become rubbish. There are more questions than answers, luckily I’m very eclectic so I can give a base camp answer, then watch as their minds click and you can see from their expression, from the look in their eyes that they understand and they can begin to work things out for themselves or just have a look online. The main thing though is that Daddy, this daddy, me, encourages his girls to use their brains.
The cobwebs may grow IF I didn’t have children asking this and asking that. In a couple of years time my biggest daughter can read my book, it’s a 12 certificate so although she’s seen it she’ll just have to wait for the dubious honour of reading daddy’s The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.
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