A quick glance of Twitter this morning you could tell the tweeters with young children, by 7.30am they were up, presents opened, breakfast done. Father’s Day obligations completed children were in front of the cartoons. Problogger posted a delightful interview with his 6-year-old son who provided information on his dad’s favourite food, what he does for a living, his looks and how he spends the weekend. So very sweet. If you still have little ones do that now. You lose that cute factor as they age.

In our house it was 9.00am and there was no sign of the children – I had to wake them up to do breakfast – otherwise Dad wouldn’t have eaten until around midday. They haven’t had time to make a card (there’s been soccer games, school-camp preparations, homework, they are BUSY PEOPLE). So I went to the newsagency and got the card and scratchie. (There is a better present coming, just in typical shambolic style we left the order until a little bit too late for Father’s Day delivery so next Sunday we may be doing this again with the real present).

It’s a tough gig this being a father – particularly a father of daughters.

You start off the centre of their universe and rapidly descend to being the world’s greatest embarrassment.

Riding in Dad’s truck, making stuff in the shed and chasing him around the backyard are no longer top of their list of fun activities once adolescence hits.

Dad’s are left in the wake of a confused, hurly burly of hormonal emotions with absolutely no idea of why nobody can take a joke anymore.

However, if you are patient you do end up with a cooked breakfast, a cap (the last item left at the Father’s Day Stall – Year 6 arrive last to the buying spree so you get the leftovers), a winning scratchie (ok it was only a free ticket but who knows that might be THE ONE) and even a hug.

Secretly, they love the fact Dad has given them more great childhood memories of doing  fun (that is dangerous stuff) than Mum. They have the scars to prove that Dad is a bit more “just have a go” than Mum. “No really Mum we weren’t very high up the tree, just a little way, the first branch that’s all”.

They are also well aware any chance of passing maths relies on Dad (Mum proved useless from Year 2 onwards) and if they are ever going to be able to drive a car it’s going to be down to Dad (Mum has as an issue with not being in control of the vehicle).

So despite the current angst  it is clear Dad still has a very important role to play in raising girls who will go out into the world with confidence, fearlessness and able to do a hill start.

I hope all the Dads have had a great day today.