The Day They Let Dad In –

 

Of all the choices; 

And probabilities,

This life will inflict upon the one,

The one

They like to call “Old Man!

Even Dad or Pop will do.”

But when they want

Something special,

Or meaning of the want

Is of the rather badly needed kind,

They will call on him

With a sickly

And a tenderly rendition of

“Daddy Dear.”

 

So it is when the sibling fledgling; 

Flexes her wings and pouts

About her so-called freedom.

In her first attempt to escape;

From the family roost

In getting behind the wheel,

Of the family car

In order to learn the finer arts,

Of braking,

In making and propelling,

Our family ’96 Ford Falcon,

Backwards and forwards,

On suburban roads,

Under the watchful eye of first; 

A well paid driving instructor,

Then good old Mother Goose.

 

In and around the family home,

It’s then the sibling fledgling,

At a time like this

I’ve gotta own and call her,

One of the brood,

As sibling fledgling

Is all smiles,

As well as ill-conceived confidence,

Is spread across her dial,

Not a thing could possibly go wrong,

For Mother Goose;

Shares her daughter’s confidence,

And without fear or trepidation

Jumps into the front seat,

You see Mother Goose;

Has been main instigator,

With the youngest sibling fledgling

Getting this far so good.

 

On getting her learner’s permit,

Sibling fledgling had had only two lessons

From a well paid Professional School Car driver

With L-Plates front and back

Then Mother Goose

Thought about the cost

And without hindsight or wisdom

Mother Goose then took charge,

Taking over the important role of,

Prodding,

Pleading,

Smiling,

Compromising,

Learning all the rules by heart,

And keeping sibling fledgling

Safely on the road,

Furthermore and importantly so,

Keeping the ’96 Ford Falcon

From getting a scratch on duco.

 

So with only days to go

And youngest sibling fledgling

Trying for all her worth to get her “P’s”

And With Mother Goose’s prompting

Thought its bout time

To let her “Daddy Dear,”

Into her little secret

Into revealing her ability

To get behind the wheel,

As “Daddy Dear”

Is allotted, allowed and allocated

To the back seat of the family bus.

And definitely,

Not directly behind her highness.

Youngest sibling fledgling

Whose main claim to fame is now?

As a “L-Plated learner driver”

Who is for the entire world to see?

Is all grins and smiles?

With tons of confidence to boot

Before setting forth,

Now on a journey of the unknown.

 

And wouldn’t you know it?

Her “Daddy Dear,”

Is relegated to being backseat driver,

But it is I the father!

Who has driven the most in this family?

And not speeding ticket

Or parking ticket

To show for all the years behind the wheel,

From far away Darwin,

Right down to good old Melbourne town

Even missing mobs of roos

When crossing the Nullabor at night,

Even saw the Harbour Bridge

As the sun was setting in the west,

When driving along the Quay.

You see this Dad has been driving

On the highways of the nation, 

And all the way down Sesame Street,

Crossing over many intersections,

And furthermore down many dusty outback tracks,

And the most this fledgling daughter

Has on this day to fear,

Is driving with her ‘Old Man”

Who is stuck somewhere in back.

 

Our ’96 Ford Falcon;

Starts up like a dream and so it should,

The engine is purring like a kitten.

So far, so good;

When all of a sudden

The unexpected,

Becomes an expected reality,

As our ’96 Ford Falcon

Literally shakes, rattles and rolls,

As gears go crunch,

With smoke pouring from ‘neath the bonnet,

Then with a sort of hippity hop,

It stops on the spot,

An unusual occurrence

Even for an automatic machine,

Tuned up to the minute.

 

But there am I in back seat,

Suffering in enforced silence,

I dare not criticize,

I dare not speak,

Or even make an educated guess,

At what has just happened,

I dare not communicate!

As head turns

“Don’t worry Daddy Dear

This happens all the time.”

 

Then before you know it,

Barroom, Barroom, Barroom!

A zoom thrust of power

We’re definitely on our way,

But I as ‘Daddy Dear’

Into a Courier Mail;

Bought specially for the occasion,

Is where I choose to put my head.

As natter, natter natter boring patter;

Emanating from the front

“Slow down luv,

You’re going a bit too quick,

Get over into left lane

And don’t forget to indicate,

Up further is where we’ll turn,

Just try keeping in the middle

Now slowly pull over to the left!”

Came the words from an Instructing Mother Goose;

Ever guiding fledgling daughter,

In the finer arts of becoming a driver.

 

The suddenly without warning!

Like a guided missile off course

Came this rather explosive retort,

Expressions of a different kind,

Erupting from the front;

Of the ’96 Ford Falcon,

“That f$%*#@g stupid bloody cow,

Just bloody cut me off!

Where in the bloody hell!

Did she bloody get her license?

Bloody shouldn’t be on the road.

Now look at that bloody silly old bastard,

Bloody didn’t blink;

When he bloody left the curb,

Bet he bloody wears glasses?

And bloody wears a hat too,

Just as all old bloody twits do.

Now look at that bloody hoon

Bloody thinks he owns the road,

Bloody pushing in and out,

Bloody hell mate!

You’re a bloody smart arse,

You’re not bloody getting in here!”

 

“Calm down darling”

With authority in her voice,

Mother Goose was always reliable

To be on hand in any given situation,

Calmly and persuasively she implored,

“Your blood pressures will sky-rocket.

And besides

You sound just like your father.

Now pull in here

You won’t be late for work;

Darling!

Your driving is improving,

So see ya tonight,

And you can drive the Falcon home,

So you can get more practice,

And I’ll promise to leave your Dad at home.”

 

As I the dad, the father

The master driver supreme

Slipped further and further

And tried with all my might

To dis-appear forever

In the backseat of the car.