By LISA MITCHELL
My dad is notoriously hard to buy gifts for so I tend to come up with something he likes once, and then spend the next five years repeating that gift until Mum taps me on the shoulder and points out that he hasn’t actually been using my brilliant gifts for at least three of those five years.
But I refuse to give up. One day I will nail it. I will come up with the perfect present that sees him enter a state of lip-wobbling appreciation because of how thoughtful his youngest daughter is.
Which is what made it all the more worse when I plum forgot to buy him anything at all last Father’s Day. I blame myself obviously, and the fact our kitchen had been ripped out two days before in preparation for a renovation. Unless a reminder note is on my fridge, I forget everything.
No kitchen, no fridge full of reminders to gaze at.
Lesson learned.
My sisters are no help and my brother even less. I am the one who usually takes up the collection to buy gifts in my family. They are frustratingly lost without me and tend to forget to give me the money until my text message reminders become a little passive-aggressive.
Passive-aggression via text message to siblings is my specialty.