Learner Dad: 'I told my wife that I’m going to buy the kids a pair of Man United gloves'

Picture: iStock 

My six-year-old has started wearing bright red Liverpool FC gloves. The temperature went below zero one day and my wife fished them out of the drawer. No one is sure how they got in there, but I reckon his u ncle the Liverpool fan snuck them in there . 

I’m a Manchester United fan. I was a lapsed fan about 10 years ago when they kept winning the league and it got boring. Then Alex Ferguson retired as manager, they stopped winning and things became interesting again. Maybe human beings are just attracted to pain.

I thought I had my fandom under control, that following United was just a detached interest to pass the time – and then the gloves came out of the drawer, and I realise d that I might have a problem. In terms of betrayal, it’s as if I’m a staunch republican and my son just walked into the room in Union Jack boxer-shorts.

I told my wife that I’m going to buy both my kids a pair of Man United gloves. She said don’t be ridiculous, they’re just a pair of gloves. I don’t think she gets it at all.

Bad language:  

My wife's not that gone on me watching United games on my phone when the kids are around. Let’s just say they’re becoming really good at cursing. 

It was different towards the end of last season – United were on a winning streak and I could go through an entire game without reaching for the F-word. Last Wednesday they lost 2-1 in Istanbul and I think I might have said at least three F-words in front of my kids. I hope I did anyway because United were terrible.

My wife had a word afterwards and suggested I stop watching the games full-stop, they just make me angry. Which is true, they do. But I’ve been following United for almost 50 years, and it’s a bit like being in a cult. 

I can’t imagine life without the rhythm of a soccer season, two matches a week from August to May, highs and lows, F-words and ‘yes!’. 

So look, cut my kids a bit of slack if you hear them swearing in public – it’s not their fault that their Dad has been captured by a cult.

Local forests: 

It was an amazing crispy, blue-sky sunrise this morning, our fourth one in a row. The kids and I bumped into their friend and his mam  on the way to school, halfway up Tory Top Road. 

Normally myself and that m a m would talk about plans for the weekend or maybe indulge ourselves with a chat about summer holiday plans . There is no point in that because of you-know-what, so we went for the only thing that parents can talk about now – forests within a 5k radius. 

We’ve already visited two we never even knew existed (Ballybrack in Douglas and Glen River Park off the Ballyhooly Road). This latest has opened us  u p to some nice forest walks in the city . 

But the minute it’s over, we’re off to Gougane Barra. I miss big skies and silence.

Feline friends: 

I got a jolt when we passed a missing-cat sign on a pole this morning in Turner’s Cross . W e have two cats living with us, although they reckon we live with them. Skippy and Maisie have been part of our family since we got took them in as kittens, 14 years ago. 

The kids don’t know a life without them. That could change quickly given the lifespan of a domestic cat and I don’t know if we’re ready for it. 

I remember, growing up when our dog Prince was ‘sent to the farm’ because he had a habit of putting his Dalmatian paws on people’s shoulders and gently biting their cheek. I was devastated for weeks, something I kept to myself because I thought it was ridiculous. 

When time’s up for Skippy and Maisie, I’m going to tell my kids there is nothing wrong with feeling like it’s the end of the world. 

And if I see your missing cat around Turner’s Cross, I’ll give you a call.