Happy Birthday!

My father was 23 when I was born. He did the right (or wrong, depending on how hindsight is foresight in my life) thing and married my momma.  I was a shotgun wedding baba, but its okay – I’m cool with that, I know they loved each other very much and had done for years so it was likely the parentals would have got hitched anyway*.

He was a soldier in the army, a hard core oke who got things done.  A lot of my dad shines through in me, namely; my ability to do things really stupid and most often, senseless.  Like the time when I was 4years old and constipated, my dad knelt down in front of me and tried to teach me how to push out a putty.  He did the job so well, he sharted**.  Yup, thats my dad.  Classy.

Last year before Dad and Trace and Shlee immigrated to Oz they stayed with me in my flat for a few weeks.  It was the best bonding session I could have ever asked for, we watched black comedy flicks daily, got pickled together, had singstar compos with everyone including the neighbours, pub crawled and even went clubbing a few times.  He even stole a bloody rugby mascot tribe in his drunken state.

Its my dad’s birthday today.  I thought I would dedicate a post to him, about him, for him. Humphrey Bumphrey Da’ I hope you are enjoying it all the way in Oz. Love you madly.

He reads this blog, so be nice and wish him Humphrey Bumphrey too.

*  It helps put me to sleep at night, okay?
** Yeah, I giggled when I typed that.


  1. angel says:

    happily happily happily birfdaze, shebeeliciousness’ daddy darling!
    you must be one seriously hoopy frood* to have made our darling shebee like she is!

    *yes- this is a good thing

  2. shebee says:

    Thanks, fools.

    I’m told Da was given an xbox for his bday. LOL! Only my father would want something like that!

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