Father’s Day misadventures: Not the ideal dad on the day

A pair of Crocs causes consternation on Father's Day.


Moving to be near your daughter has its advantages. However, after Father’s Day she might disagree.

And it started with swollen tootsies. Mine. One of the side-effects of an aortic valve replacement is retention of water. This, despite a pill the size of a pin head allowing for overflow at least six times hourly.

It’s probably revenge taken by Percy Pig for having used his body to construct the valve. Or is it because my star sign is Aquarius?

When daughter planned the day, she had forgotten about the condition of her dad’s feet. Lunch at home could’ve been an option.

But being a glitzy Gautenger metamorphosed into a modish Mountain Goat, she stuck to an upmarket restaurant on an estate in swanky Constantia. How could she?

She had not accounted for her dad’s inflated trotters. It would’ve been okay in our former habitat where bare feet are accepted at the opera. But certainly not in a place fancied by international celebrities.

After two sleepless nights, Heidi has the answer. Crocs. Great.

I have an orange pair.

And they manage to encase my fat feet.

Problem solved.

Wrong.

I recall when Crocs first hit the streets and operating theatres (surgeons love them). Daughter couldn’t stand them. Thought they were disgusting.

Either we tell her the news, or pitch up with blue flannels, orange long-sleeved shirt with matching Crocs.

We opted for the latter.

The plan was for daughter and retinue to arrive first and await the honoured guest making a swaggering entrance, facing flashing cameras.

Try swaggering with a sensitive groin through which Percy was shoved, feet strangled in tight Crocs and bent over by a decaying lower back. Supercrocman makes a tottering entry. There’s a loud groan from daughter.

“How could you, Dad?”

As we pass a table of strangers, one idiot exclaims: “Silly old fart seeking attention”.

Thankfully, the estate’s vintage breaks the awkward silence. And I kick off the Crocs under the table. But daughter refuses to meet my relieved eyeballs.

Oh, I skip the menu special – pork belly.

In case Porky feels offended and pours more water into the system.

Now read: Netflix movie ‘Fatherhood’ reminds us what being a dad is supposed to be about

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