Sometimes its Best to Ask Dad…

If you had to ask anyone over the age of 18 what their life motto is, nine times out of ten they’ll tell you, “Always listen to your mum.”


She’s older than you, in some cases wiser than you and has most likely made it through the same situation with a glass of wine in hand.


Unfortunately for me, there have been lots of times I haven’t listened to my mum.

Like the time I thought she wouldn’t find out when I lied to her about going ice skating with boys.


Or when she told me I was too young to date and boys were stupid.


Or the time we made a bet that my brother wouldn’t forget anything when he moved overseas for a year (I was too optimistically supportive, he forgot his e ticket).


Or the time I brought an $8 bottle of sav blanc instead of a $3 bottle (the $3 bottle tasted better but I hated them both).


Whether it is about kissing boys, dating boys, friend issues, reading books or wine, always listen to your mum, she’s usually right about most things. I will always regret the time I wasted not reading the Malory Towers series at age eight.


Sometimes however, it’s really best to ask dad.


Like how the clutch on a car works. “I don’t know, I just drive,” was my mum’s response to 16-year-old me who couldn’t understand how to stop stalling.


How to choose the best wine that doesn’t come in a carton for $15.


And how to find a suitable date (check the shoes and the watch).


Sometimes it’s dad who really knows best.


A fact I wish I had remembered two weeks ago as I was conned into going with my mum and her girlfriends to a strip show.


Not one of my best moves, but in my defence, I was told it was like Magic Mike.


This was one of those times I shouldn’t have listened to my mum. A Bunning’s warehouse sausage sizzle is more similar to magic mike than this show was.


In reality, I really should have cottoned on to what my night was to become once we pulled up at the community centre.


As I sat amongst the crowd of ladies of which I was the youngest by a good 30+ years I realised maybe I’d gotten myself into a bit of trouble.


Not only was this NOT like Magic Mike, it wasn’t even a strip show! It was a show about five good old larrikin Aussie lads wanting to be strippers.


Imagine my horror when I realise these five old, fat and hairy men were going to start taking their clothes off.


But according to the screams and tops being lifted in the front row by a group of 60 somethings… I was apparently the only horrified audience member.


I’ll spare you the details, but there were Velcro pants, a Zorro costume, many a cowboy hat, sparkly gold thongs and more wrinkly things than I’ve ever seen.


Next time I’ll definitely listen to Dad when he pulls me aside and advises that I “give this one a miss.”



*** All photos are quite obviously from pre drinks, if you’re looking for more laughable stimulation of old men in velcro pants, send me a message and I can share the horror.


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