Fathers. 

Dad's. 

Your cousin's uncle...

Fathers seem to be the most humourous parent of the two, with their dry humour and spending time thinking about - and tending to - a garden that looks perfectly fine to everyone else in the household.

They're the strictest, in my personal experience, and as I grow older I appreciate it; the world is a scary place and my father just wants to be my first line of defence, emotionally and physically.

Even the smallest of moments make me appreciate his presence, like the conversations we had when he'd escort me to work on quiet Sunday mornings about everything and anything.

Thinking about things like this make me think about how I don't need to wait for his birthday or Father's Day to show him love and appreciation; I should do it whenever it's possible.

Enough about me LOL.

Today's story goes into how one father's work trip away from home throws a household's routine out of whack for the unlikeliest of reasons.

My mother's a little quiet once my dad vanishes past the boarding gate, her waving slowing down to a halt.

'It's only gonna be a week,' my older sister Eliza reminds her. Eliza knows she can finally buy extra things at the shop without Dad's permission, not worrying about him thinking she looks too mature for her clothes, but I know she's gonna miss his free transport services.

'Yeah,' Mum replies, making us walk back to the parking lot in a hurry, and I have to take in the interesting chaos of the airport and the people who are in it.

I wonder where Dad's seated on the plane. Is he seated by the window, watching us go back home?

Is he sitting close to the pilot's room, possibly listening to the conversations in there?

Eliza rolls her eyes every time Dad tells us his stories of flying around in a plane as a bedtime story. About one time, the plane shook so hard that the huge man seated next to him threw up in a bag and he just kept his own hands squeezed on the armrests.

'Were you scared?' I asked him, eyes wide.

'Not really. I knew that we'd be okay, even though the lightning outside was pretty bad.'

Then there was the time he got bumped up to business class, telling me about reclining on the seat, wearing the eye masks and dining like he was in a fancy restaurant. He bought home a bag of toiletries that Mum loved because of how good they made him smell, one of the few times she didn't feel so sad when he was gone. I saw the empty bottle just sitting on Mum's dresser one morning.

Mum and Dad are like peas in a pod. Eliza gets to skip washing dishes sometimes because Dad wants to wash up while Mum cooks, talking about whatever they talk about. They talk about random things everywhere; when he's working on the laptop, when she's trying to watch videos on her phone...

We're in the car now, snacking on popcorn Mum bought on the way out. Eliza is taking advantage of the sunshine pouring in through the window, taking pictures as I listen to the debate on the radio, just like Dad does during school runs and bad traffic.

He'd laugh at whatever the radio host would say and argue with him as if he was in the car with us. I don't really understand what the issues are about, but Dad always tells me to listen 'as they might affect you one day!'

So I ask Mum if that's true.

She smiles at me through the mirror. 'Not all of it, May. Your dad just thinks everything is worth talking about.'

-

The house is a little quiet as Mum cooks in the kitchen, Eliza nearby to wash up when the sink gets too full.

I'm looking at Mum's phone, wondering when Dad will call again. He called earlier, to let us know that he's safe in the hotel overlooking more hotels far, far away, and how the food won't be as good as Mum's. I made him promise to take pictures of the place he's in and bring presents for us like he always does.

I eventually get bored and go to my room, taking out a colouring book, wondering what it's like to be in a place where it's still early in the morning while your family is about to have dinner. Having to use a different watch and maybe talk in a whole other language.

I look at the wooden cats he bought me from one trip to Japan. He couldn't stop talking about the trains, the streets and how coffee sits in vending machines, waiting to be bought. He also complained about the plane ride, 18 hours of sitting, reading and watching the movies...

I can't wait to get on a plane one day just like him and explore the world, learning new languages and buying cool stuff to give my own family. I even want to fly a small plane!

-

I'm a bit sad now, crawling into bed without Dad. He'd tuck me in carefully before telling me and Eliza a story. Eliza is now 15, but she still loves listening to how he tells them, and being able to see everything that happens like we're there with him.

Just then Eliza walks in and sees me, thinking probably by the way her eyebrows are crooked.

'Want a story, May?' she asks as she sits next to me, trying to tuck me in.

'Yes, please.'

'Okay, where do you want to go tonight?' she fails to do our father's deep voice as she tells me our favourite story so far, about how Dad went to the beach and looked for shells so much that he got a mild sunburn and crabs trying to bite his toes. Mum was upset when he returned from the trip, the story and shells with him.

Eliza's getting to the really good bits when Mum walks in with her phone in her hand.

'Hello, girls!' his voice sounds a bit tired but cheerful. 'Ready for a story?'

'Eliza's already telling me,' I reply as I see his face, smiling as he works on a sunny balcony in Cape Town.

'Oh?' his face lights up. 'Which one, Liz?'

'The crab and the shell,' she replies.

'Oh? Well, I think I'm going to do that again!' he laughs, Mum rolling her eyes but smiling all the same. 'Well, Liz, continue with the story, I want to know what it sounds like from your perspective...'

And she does, with all his enthusiasm until we're laughing and tired, but refusing to get off the phone until Mum has to.

'I'll be back home before you know it,' Dad says as we wave goodnight. 

I hug my teddy as I fall asleep, hoping Dad enjoys himself at the beach without crabs coming after him.

The End.