Dengue Father

The Lawn

My father sent me a text on the weekend saying he had Dengue fever and also that my mother was digging up the lawn to replace it with a patio.

I was obviously concerned about the Dengue fever but more than that, like what the hell?? Why was my mother digging up the lawn? And a patio? We don’t need another patio. What about the picnics?? What’s going on here?

My father tells me nothing and texts me saying I should call my mother.

So I send her a frantic text saying

“Pop’s told me you’re digging up the lawn??”

Then I call her and said

“You’re digging up the lawn?? Why are you digging up the lawn??”

“Hi darling! Who told you I’m digging up the lawn?”

I consider the statement above as an admission of guilt. Clearly she’s tried to keep it hush-hush but my father ratted her out! I panic immediately.

“Pop’s sent me a text saying he had dengue and you were digging up the lawn!”

“Ooff-ho! Tubs, you told her I’m digging up the lawn?”

My mother is confronting the whistle-blower. Why did he blow the whistle anyway? And why do we need another patio??

“Why are you digging up the lawn?? We don’t need a patio!! How are we going to have picnics??”

My poor sick fathers Dengue has taken a back seat to the lawn-patio debacle

“Darling, I’m not digging up the lawn, your father is just…telling lies”

I’m suspicious of this. Is my mother telling lies about my father telling lies?

“What do you mean he’s lying? So you’re not digging up the lawn??”

“No, No! I’m not digging up the lawn.”

“Why is Pop’s lying? He’s damn mean!”

“Tubs, she says you’re damn mean”

“Pops! Why are you telling lies?”

“Because I like to irritate you darling”

This is why I have no sympathy for the Dengue, although I suppose he must be bored.

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18 thoughts on “Dengue Father

  1. i started panicking at the beginning of your ranting. ‘digging up the lawn’…i would have started a morcha outside! your lawn is one of the few little fairy haunts left, even though, i’ve barely picniced there. it’s so beautiful!
    fathers love their little games. and boredom always makes them come up with the worst things to pinch the daughters. they know exactly which buttom to push. i still havent figured out how my father always manages to make me go red in the face, stomp my feet and scream in frustration. it always takes me a few minutes to realise…the smirk on his face…so proud of his achievement. well, i guess they are allowed their moments of entertainment at our expense…especially if they are dengue suffering…

  2. I had Dengue once. In Thailand. As well as gastroenteritis and a massive blister which merged with a mosquito bite on my ankle to become a rather digusting purple pustular item. I suspect it was this mossie bite that caused the Dengue. Anyway, I would have more sympathy for your Father, if it’s anywhere as bad as mine was and he has a temp of 42 degrees (which amusingly my biology later told me was inhumanly possible) and blood taken every day to check his platelets, he will need some daughterly support. However, consider he thinks tittering over lawn jokes is still funny, he can’t be on death’s door…

  3. Inhumanly possible = humanly impossible….
    yes, yes I am a writer…..
    Though an inhuman may well be able to have a temperature of 42 degrees or even more…

    • i never even noticed the typo – if it was leo now i’d make it a point because he rates grammar and spelling over actual content. which is a complete nonsense.
      also his guardian article had a massive typo.
      i have great sympathy – i intend to be there over the whole xmas hols so that should be nice.
      hopefully i wont get malaria again. that was very tiresome.
      he knows i get very wound up about the house and my mother and i have huge rows over the future prospects of the house and garden.
      nothing is close to happening for a while but we argue about it anyway

  4. my father is’nt at detahs door thank god, but he is an actor, and therefore hams it up
    “darling I’m dying. No one loves me. your mother never kisses me anymore. No one cares, if I die”
    this is all for a cold.

  5. make that 9! It makes me so happy to see you’ve revived the blog! I finally have something interesting to read at work! Now I’m off to watch the videos you posted

  6. Pingback: High Tea – Final « Tin Roof Press

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