FATHERS across Britain are enjoying the moment when a year of parenting finally pays dividends.
After 364 days of school runs, bedtime stories and beatings disguised as play, fathers are reaping a rich harvest of novelty socks, barbecue accoutrements and a card implying they like golf and/or moustaches.
Father of two Tom Booker said: “Some of my bachelor mates look at me, exhausted and broken from parenthood, and think it’s for mugs.
“They don’t see that I’m playing the long game. That every Father’s Day I collect the winnings by unwrapping a box of supermarket own-brand liquor chocolates and a bottle of unusable hot sauce.
“And after that, a trip to a vintage car rally. Oh yeah. This daddy ain’t no fool.”
But George Logan, aged eight, said: “Christ, I’ll be glad when it’s over.
“There’s no gratitude, that’s what gets me. He struts around all day like Billy Big Bollocks, acting like a handmade card and being served toast in bed is his absolute due.
“First thing Monday morning I’m going to make him wish he’d had the snip. If I have to pay my Father’s Day tax that bastard’s going to earn it.”
