Father's Day

I thought I'd share an early childhood memory of my father today.

When I was about 3 we lived in Wetherill Park in south-western Sydney and with my mother at work and my brothers at school, I was often left alone with dad at home. He was in the yard mowing the lawn and so I was left to my own devices.

I used to go to the bathroom, open the vanity cupboard (beneath the sink) and stand on the shelf so that I could see myself in the mirror. This time I decided to mimic my dad by picking up his razor and I proceeded to shave my face! I ran outside, blood and tears streaming down my chin.

He immediately dropped what he was doing and came over to try to calm me down. He gently blew on my wounds until I eventually stopped wailing.

Thank you for always being there for me to cry on Papa...