It feels a bit perverse to even let the thought wave crackle across the synapses (is that how it works?), never mind to welcome it in and dwell on it. I probably shouldn’t even mention it.

But let’s be honest with each other. What a father wants more than anything else on this spurious day is a long lie and some peace and quiet.

No socks, no cards, no book, no CD. What he really wants is to not have his kids around for at least the first part of the day. What he really, really wants is to forget about being a father at all. At least for a little while.

I used to love a lie in. Then the kids came along and now staying in bed past 7am feels like the ultimate luxury. I get up first every single morning and have done on 99.9% of mornings since we had our first child (you know it’s true, Mrs G!). It’s not because I want to. And definitely not because I’m a morning person.

It’s because I feel obliged. Because I’ve never had to produce a child from a (relatively) small gap between my legs. Because I’ve never had to be stitched up “down there”. Because I’ve never felt the pain of a hungry mouth gnawing on my tender nipples. Because I don’t look in the mirror and weep for what my body has endured. Because when all’s said and done, I’ve had by far the better part of the deal in this child-making business.

So the least I can do, I figure, is to haul my grumpy butt out of bed before Mrs G.

But I live in hope that one of these weekend mornings, I’ll get the chance not to be first up. And maybe on a Sunday, I can both buy – and read – a heavyweight Sunday paper. I might even go out for lunch and sit throughout my entire meal, without raising my voice or picking bits of food up from the floor. I could go for a walk and not have muddy feet hanging down from my shoulders. I could choose to stroll past the ice cream van and not have an ear-drum bursting tantrum to cope with.

But Ialso know that before too long, I’d be missing the jumping, squealing, laughing, pooping, falling, crying, cuddling, bathing, reading and kissing. I know that there’s no greater satisfaction than to be able to look down on your kids, finally exhausted and asleep after a non-stop day.
I know that one lie in is bliss. But too many would be an unlikely form of torture.
I know that just the one day of not being a father is all I need.