Old man syndrome

At present, it is 18:15 , the relevance? Well usually by this time I’d be lounging around or eating most probably –realistically I’d be doing both- then I thought, let me write a blog post that is always a fun thing to do.

I spent about 30mins pondering the possibilities of what I could possible share with you today. I had a number of ideas but none of them really wowed me and I’m easily pleased, so they definitely wouldn’t have amused you guys. So, I turned to a man of knowledge, the man who apparently always knows best… My pops.

I’d never regretted asking my pops for help so much in my life… Now, he isn’t really a traditional ‘back in my day kind of guy’ but today, you would’ve thought he had transported himself from the age of aboriginals. After a long, mundane and patronising conversation this is what I concluded what my lecture.

Remembering all I had asked him was “pops, you got any good blog post ideas?”

1. Back in my day if we wanted to tell somebody something we wouldn’t put it on the line, I’d write a letter and post it to everyone… 
2. Why would you want everyone to know what your thinking? Are you really that bored
3. You talk to your blog more than you talk to us!
4. Write something insightful, how to make a good sandwich (I’m sure he meant this as a joke)
5. If I help you its not your blog and therefore you should pay me or change it to ‘delveintodad’
6. I like watching you thinking about something, it’s a rare sight
7. I wish you’d revise
8. What is the point in a blog? Do people even read your rambles
9. I’m sorry, how about the art of Picasso?
10. Do you get paid? I need house rent

Are you sighing as much as I am right now? There was so much more, he was on his soapbox preaching nonsense at me ALL morning. I couldn’t regret anything more in my life, all I want was to eat my toast with a civilised man, having a civilised conversation about a potential post-although I did get what I wanted- but instead I got my pops conforming to the stereotypical dad role. I’ve learnt my lessons, need advice? Ask mum. 
My countenance throughout the rambles…