She'll Have To Go

There was only one solution. He had to get rid of the dog; without them knowing. At night. It would need to be at night. He would drive, someplace. He’d decide later where, open the doors, let it out, drive away. Sooner the better. He felt relieved making the decision. Any action was better than none. He was convinced.

The dog adored car journeys and loved its station wagon bed. Visits to family, the treat giving vet or the large park across town; where she got to run free of the leash. There’d be no trouble sneaking her out.

An hour in with light failing he had a sense she had not settled. In the rearview mirror he saw her wandering in circles looking for the perfect spot to curl up. Lifting her nose, sniffing the air, another four-footed waltz; and repeat. Could she sense his unease? Was his musk of worry drifting back? She’d always been asleep by now. He could see she was unsettled. He could feel his own tension. He watched as she nosed the air as if trying to identify a scent.

A well-lit free-way, long, narrow and straight. It went on for an age and the car seemed not to change direction for even longer. Her ears had remained pricked since he’d noticed. She now seemed to be searching for shapes and sounds through the rear window. They exited the highway onto a narrow street. After half a mile he turned onto a dirt track. The noise from the tires changed. A lower register of loose gravel surrounded the car. He killed the engine. Surrounded by sentinel pines he crooked his head to look up through the windshield to find some sky. He saw treetops almost touching, like fingers closing in prayer. He sat back and blew out his cheeks.

Opening his door he stepped into the night. The internal light lit inches of darkness. She stood expectantly, tail slashing the air. He wandered away hearing the beginning of her whine.

Wandering to a space between trees he relaxed against one. As he tidied himself the interior light went out. At that moment the weight of the darkness around him became overwhelming and he felt his eyes moisten under the strain. He had to do this. It had become impossible. She’d be fine. Someone would take her in - she was gentle, just needy. 

He lowered the tailgate. The inside light flashed on, staring at him accusingly. She gazed up, perched on her haunches, awaited the command. ‘O.K. come on’.

She jumped down. Squatting down to calm her he grabbed her ruff, shook it and fussed her firmly. Thumping his leg with her hysterical tail she spotted the ball in his hand and began bobbing and spinning like a Cossack dancer. He rolled the ball into the head-lighted track half a dozen times so that she became distracted by the game. The seventh, pressing his calf against the front fender for purchase, he launched the ball with immense force into the blackness.

As he drove the salt of effort, ache and gloom mixed to stain his face. He had gunned the gas pedal and spun the car down the track as fast as he dare; wheels bouncing off the surface at each dip. He reached the road. The surface smoothed as he approached the intersection to the turnpike. He had been driving only a couple minutes and felt a good distance away. He opened his window. Leaning out he gulped at the breeze. Wind on his face, hair blown back, he felt the foggy dew on his mouth and began to calm.

Guiding the car down the slipway he flicked the signal stalk and drifted into the nearside lane. Reaching the interstate his mind swirled. Thoughts of how he would answer family questions at breakfast began to fill his mind. A high pitched wailing pierced his thoughts; in the rear-view mirror lights lurched into the air, smoke spilled out of torn tyres filling the free-way like morning smog. He pulled onto the hard shoulder a cloud of burning fuel and rubber billowing toward him. Stepping out he saw shadows of vehicles and people. Out of the thickening mist, he saw her. Tennis ball in mouth lurching unevenly.  Her back right leg not touching the ground. She spotted him. Her tail wagged furiously. She hobbled towards him he sunk to his knees felt that involuntary spasm that stirs the stomach and overflows the chest. The leg was badly damaged and fur along her flank was black with matted blood. He picked her up and laid her gently in her bed, tail slowly slapping the floor of the car.

 With his phone he searched for the nearest Vet. Ten minutes later he carried a limp silent bloodied bitch onto a gleaming stainless steel operating table and whispering in her ear begged her to recover. The vet, masked, gestured for him to wait outside.

All he wanted now was for her to survive. How would he explain this all to his girls? He called to explain. The phone answered by a drowsy voice. ‘Hello?’

The vet came into reception, latex gloved fingers streaked red, a plastic apron over green scrubs wearing a mask hooked over ears. She lifted a hand and eyebrows to attract his attention.

‘Sorry darling’. I’ll call you straight back. I promise... Love you.’

___________________________________________________________________________

Standing in Sunshine

“Most of the shadows of this life are caused by standing in one's own sunshine.”

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Unique feelings,

vicarious -

of duty

fear- 

loss – 

waste -

achievement?

an anxious calm

feelings fed from

another’s memory

recollecting times

never known

places never been

loves never kissed

horrors never seen

pains never felt

all seen in the eye of the

collective mind.

Feeling pride in the

intangible

touching that past

with another’s finger;

transcendent connections

to the grey

spurning spines

carrying static tingles

deep to the

meat of your chest.

without manifest memory

family stories of

what granddad did in the war,

there exists this

celestial kinship.

searching… in that

genealogical gulf

for the stories
that connect us

to history’s winding coil

that elusive intuit which

may just inform us

transform us

confirm us

in our beliefs

expectations

understandings

Looking;

for explanations
of what we’ve become

of what we are

of what we think   we are

of what we imagine   we are

others may think    we are

that virtue that would be -

'tae see oor-selles as others see us.’*

'what did  granddad do in the war?'

He stepped out of his sunshine -

so we could stand

in ours.

 *From the poem, ‘To a Louse’ – Robert Burns

It's only Werdz (Contains swearing!)

   

I have a fetish for the steel of words.

People state: “Yer don’t ‘alf kno’

a lot of werdz mate!”

I suppose I do but;

What - a - fucking, Waste!

·          

When some baulk at alternate words

Or pull a forced grimace,

That says “Ooer! ‘ark at you

Wiv’ yer big long werdz.

Flash git ain’t-cha mate!

·          

I recently used (without thinking)

The phrase, ‘a visceral feeling’,

They said “ Yoo wot! You fuckin' nob!

‘ave a drink, un' get down off the ceiling!

·          

So I thought, I know what I shall do

I’ll use this thrall in words,

And try to write some poetry.

‘Fill copious page in fulsome prose’

Use all those words that just mean ‘nose’

And show the world that words;

Are luminescent spears,

That pierce the bugger’s atmospheres.

·          

I found a spot where I was able to

Present my poems incognito

I chose an obscure 'nom de plume'

Shared my first in dread.

·          

The first response from someone said.-

“You have a vast vocabulary friend,

its clear, but here’s 'the rub.'

 

you’re rather

out of step

old son,

That wordy stuff,

been overdone.

Poesies knave's

Simplicity and

Brevity is King!”

Oh! Fuck it then!

The King is dead long live the fucking King!

Choose

Some hearts are so split open

You see bleeding in dying eyes

Others get so badly burnt

They taste bitter char on blistered kiss

Some have a lust so vanquishing

You feel them beat their sensuality to death

Others with a lust so debilitating

They stumble in shadowed feelings and miss.

Some with a love so desperate

You smell them in their foetid fear

Others with a love so disfiguring

They hold their faith in a knot wizened fist.

She owns hate to keep
her company; Scorn to keep
her warm; Fear to keep
her lonely - safe from being harmed.

You choose.

Seaside Skies

Seaside memories from the recent past. Camping out. One Dad three boys all under 11 years of age. A wonderful friend loaning his caravan. Far enough away from roads and towns for the night to wrap you in a black and purple sky pierced by a myriad lights.

First night was so clear. It was past midnight and the peace was as enveloping as the sky. Though they slept I decided to wake the older boys. I lifted the younger onto my lap where I sat on the edge of a camp bed. He took my hand and dragged it across his shoulder as he pushed his head into my chest. His eyes not quite open enough to see the sky's lights until I tried to point out a constellation to him and his brother. Sat in a Kelly green chair with tubular silver skeleton staring into the cloudless purple.

Credit: Starry Night

Dad?

Yes bud.

Why are there more stars in the sky here than where we live?

There isn't buddy it’s the same sky. 

I've looked Dad and there is more stars here than I've seen before.

Well I know what you mean.

See that group of stars? That’s called ‘The Plough’ if you follow the dots with your finger you can see a shape like a ladle.

I smothered his hand inside mine and drew the shape into the sky. Lifting his index finger with mine moving it from star to star. Eyes wide open as he painted the night with his mind. 

Which one is Mars?

I think it’s that one there.

I went to point into the void but before I'd moved my finger he bolted up in my lap,

There... Dad!  Look. That one. There. It’s there. It’s that pink one- there. I can see it. I found it!

I think you’re probably right son.

He sank back pulled the sleeping bag over himself and pushed his head against my chest.

You've discovered Mars son. You've discovered Mars.

Dad Pride?

Dad Pride?

What have you done today?

Thinking about what it is to be a Dad is important. Pride in being a Dad? That's tricky though isn't it?

Pride? It is one of those words that's double edged. Though it seems there has been a tendency in recent years to see it as a positive thing, a value worth savouring in one's achievements or in those of one’s countrymen.(Thanks to Heather Small, London Olympics et al!) I'm not certain it was always thus. The continuing move towards a secular society as opposed to one based on religious teaching, where the most forceful thrust against pride was preached, may well be part of the reason, but the emancipation of  family is certainly where current and future pressure exist.

I have no recollection of my father ever proclaiming pride in my efforts or attainments as a young boy nor come to that as an adult, though I can definitely remember him rolling out the expression about ‘pride coming before a fall’to keep me 'grounded'. When I reflect on this, I wonder if that is some emotionally stunted method of protecting oneself from disappointment of failure, something that certainly drove me on at school and into work , and I believe my father was always fearful  about losing the ability to provide, seeing benefit claimants as scroungers, something he would never be.

The cliché is that it was a different time and men’s acceptance of their emotional involvement in their families was not as commonplace as it is today and that is of course true to a degree. My, and  from memory most fathers of the time invested  ‘pride’ by fulfilling their role as provider, with the occasional exception. The closest I can recall my father exhibiting pride in connection with me was when he delivered on the promise of a new bike should I pass the exam to get into ‘a better school’! That was the thing, not ‘I'm proud of you son for passing the exam’ but ‘be proud of your Dad for keeping his word’. The notion that today’s man is confused about his role in the family because of the dynamics of family life doesn't reflect that many men suffered a good deal of insecurity even then about their role. I have to make a conscious effort to not be overly influenced by my history and for years before my children came, I doubted my ability to be a good dad and still do.

I am described as a ‘mature father’. I am not certain if this gives me a different perspective on the role of Dad, but certainly my childhood experiences inform my choices as one. I am also an example of the "modern Dad" one from a failed relationship who is judged by our judicial and social care systems and to some extent our current society to be almost certainly, and regardless of information to the contrary, likely to be less effective a parent, particularly with regard to emotional development of children than the mother will be. This is our fathers legacy to us, and I hope very much one that will not persist beyond this generation. 

My main focus has been that I never wished my children to feel they needed to hesitate to ask for reassurance or support in their choices nor did I ever want the fear of failing be a reason to prevent any of them from pursuing passions, intuitions, desires or beliefs. I hoped to find a way to provide what I felt they need rather than what they want, so how to do it? Hopefully I encourage my boys, too 'ask the person who is doing the thing already, they will be bound to have considered it'. So I asked the children (because they were the children), and I continue to try to find from them what the need. 

I have learnt from my children by listening to them and engaging with them just what it is they really need. I have come to realise that far from wanting the latest toy, they want time with their parents. They need to talk about things and not be questioned about them, they don’t even need you to have an answer a lot of the time, and they often just need reassurance that they have found the correct one for themselves. In my own blog I wrote a piece based around an email I sent to my sons when I had been ill and unable to see them as often as we all had wished and in response to questions the boys had asked. Almost everything in that email however had been discussed with one or all boys at some point or other and rather than put things down in the form of answers I tried to let them know that these were things that I hoped for them to know and that I felt I had taken too long to learn.

I think that I have come to see being a Dad as a bit like mentoring; being a good Dad is a lot about being a good man much like a good manager often makes a good mentor. I observed senior managers often make

ridiculous assumptions about experience and knowledge without understanding that experience is not about time spent doing something but about learning from the doing, we all know of people that have worked at the same thing for years without improving it only for someone with genuine passion and interest to come a long and overtake them. They practised more; they learnt more they tried harder. Being a Dad for me takes practise, I need to think about it and try harder each time, if I don’t I can’t possibly make it as a mentor, and as a Dad, I see my key responsibilities to try to turn out children, who will practise longer,learn more, try harder and think deeper than I did.

Like http://dadpride.blogspot.co.uk/, I am disappointed by the often negative stereotyping of Dad’s in the press and media, I'm also a little disheartened with us Dad’s for not standing up for ourselves a bit more. In a world with movements in support of so many different aspects of family life,(and rightly so), including organisations to empower mothers, like “Mums net” and the positive reinforcement of Gay and Lesbian parenting models, the support for the single parent family all of which have affirmative and strong networks built up, Dad’s have a disparate group of individuals and small associations none of which seem to be supporting each other pro-actively. Is this because we come from the “STAND ON YOUR OWN TWO FEET!” school of man training? If it is then it needs to change. I struggled for years with my personal demons, never quite understanding why I couldn't solve them all, at least temporarily; my epiphany came when I finally asked for help. The best decision I ever made rather than making me seem weaker as I had been taught to believe, it gave many around me the view that I was actually strong for seeking it out.

'Dad Pride' for me is about showing my boys that learning and knowledge,empathy and appreciation, succeeding and failing, all go towards forming personal beliefs and opinion, and that it is vital for them to function as reasonable and effective contributors to the lives of others including their own families,schools,
associations,workplaces, friends, and even future Dad's organisations, that they form thoughts,judgements and opinions with balance in all these things for all futures to be rewarding. Its about encouraging thinking,excelling at thinking, believe that thinking is a requirement, a necessity,. Embrace the task of thinking, work at it, nurture it in others as well as yourself, refine it, define it, hold it in your hands as well as your head, and keep those thoughts you have no earnest use of and share them with those who may, and write them down. Seek out different views to the ones you form, they will either persuade you in which case you learn something or they reaffirm your beliefs in which case you still learn something.

Being proud as a Dad for me is about my child coming to conclusions or decision in life situations that match those I would likely have reached in similar circumstances or even better different to mine with an ability to explain why by only using reasoning.

As much as I want to have pride in my children and for that matter my children to be proud of me, the main thing for me is that I can be proud of myself, that I did my best. It is a mantra I espouse to my lads frequently and if I want them not to remember me as a hypocrite, then I have a duty to myself and them too always work towards my best.

People talk grandly about birthright and legacy; well I believe the greatest legacy I can leave my boys is my time, our time, and this time for their lifetime.

What have I done today to make me feel proud?

Easy really; I told my sons I loved them.

(I want to thank http://dadpride.blogspot.co.uk/ for asking for my thoughts on this);

©Agides

DON'T GROW UP!

The Sun is on anabolics burning Pea Soup

When I began this it was intended to be an aid to recovery from my personal “slough of despond”. It quickly turned into an on line boast about my beautiful boys.It was never supposed to be this but bizarrely has had and is having the effect of lifting me from my mire in any case. Strange how these things come about.I have tried all kinds of treatments most with little success.This feels (so far) different.

Occasionally the fog falls  but I find it hard to write about this. Something that being 'anonymous' was supposed to enable. Strangely deep within I think I must still feel some sense of shame or similar as I still avoid it. I don’t really want to feel that,particularly as it's contrary to what I teach my lads and counter to all the advocacy I do for others. Writing about the boys lifts me out of the miasma quickly,however it also brings the realisation that this condition prevents much that I need.

A few nights ago I wrote a short blog during an onset slump. I actually posted it for 30 minutes but decided to delete it. I have been trying to understand why ever since. No one that reads this blog knows me personally with a single exception (and they know a great deal about how this came about and are of the most generous of human spirits) so why the reticence?

The truth is – I don't know. Simple as that. Maybe there is no answer maybe brighter minds than mine have an understanding. I still don't know. I hear the obvious platitudes and am guilty of occasionally using them myself. I know it's none of them. The piece I wrote was to see if act of it would prevent the onset of the melancholy; it didn't. What it did do was swallow me into the grey  more hurriedly. At some point I will probably post a self indulgent piece along the'woe is me'line so I apologise now just in case.

It was written in a stream of consciousness way and wasn't mentally edited like my writing is usually. But reading it back I noticed the preoccupation I seem to have with being a failed father. And there is the nub of it.This condition means I am not able always to have the boys. The not being able to have the boys exacerbates the condition. There is a repetitive realisation that I cannot be the Dad I so want to be.

The cure? Well the fog fell Monday night and was lifted instantly the next morning by the phone call I blogged of on Tuesday. My eldest phoned me and asked me to be his Dad for a few minutes. In its own way it is pure magic one telephone call burned away the fog like the Sun on anabolics.

I wrote before of how I encourage the boys to see teachers in all people of all ages. To accept that each new friendship will bring opportunity to understand and learn. So in order to practise what I preach I decided I should point out what I have learnt from my children.

DAD! I KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO!
PUT CHERRIES IN IT!

I have learnt that my children own the world. They glory in it and are mesmerised by it in ways I seem to have forgotten. They have an extraordinary capacity for acceptance. As no one has told them something is not “normal” then they embrace it. Including and especially of and in other people. My boys cope with change more readily as a consequence of this ability to accept. It is absolutely the case that the boys were quicker at coming to terms with the change to their lives when their parents separated, than either parent did! My boys trust not the naive trust one associates with foolishness but real trust. The kind that is supported by the Corinthian plinths of forgiveness. They hold no grudge they simply move on. They LOVE; they love me, the day, their mum, the neighbour’s dog, the walk to the shop, the trip in the car, the bike ride, the swimming, the telly, the football, the cooking, the playing, the cuddles, the bedtime, the stories and everything in between. I have learnt of dinosaurs with wings that lived on the ground. Of wasps that reproduce by laying eggs in caterpillars. I've learnt what type of bike is cool. That WOW isn't for being surprised but for talking about a video game. I have learnt that the best burgers are not the ones with a free toy, but the ones you make with each other. Where you squish and squelch the meat between your fingers and roll into giant balls before slapping them flat with your hand(so much fun!). Add your own ingredients like herbs or chilli flakes (put extra in that one Dad and we'll give it to L... he he he...) or cherries? Yup! chopped up cherries why not? I have learnt to say "why not" more often. That the funniest thing for a child to see is an adult behaving silly. (Mr Bean would be king if my boys were in charge!).

I worry that sometimes my blog makes the boys sound perfect. They are not of course but they do enthral me and that, I am afraid, I simply can't hide. As you will have certainly already noticed. All this and more I have learnt yet the one thing I have to remember is that I CAN get better and they deserve for me to do so. Because they never once have shown anything but love and understanding when it has meant they could not be with me as planned. Never demanded pleaded or sulked. They have always just said,” Sorry you’re poorly Daddy, get some rest and get better and we will see you next time. Love you Daddy, mwah!”

I learn something new every time we speak!

Oh beautiful boys don’t be in a hurry to grow up. It’s seriously over rated!


©Agides

My boy has Detention? I'm so Proud!

My eldest phoned today. It was 8.40 am. a little unusual, honestly.

Hey Dad, you okay?

I'm fine L... What’s up?

Oh you know... I was ringing because I have a Maths test today and I wanted one of your you can do it positive talks that you do, to make me feel better."

Oh really? Well you already know what I’ll say don’t you?

Yeah, but I wanted to hear you say it.

Okay fella, well, all you have to do is your best; because we both know your best is good enough, and try to do so well that they have to tell you, all right?

Thanks Dad.

That's okay matey any time you know that.

Um, Dad, I need to tell you something else.

OK fella! you're sounding serious there, what do you need to tell me?

I need to tell you I've got an after school detention tomorrow.

“.............................”
Dad!?

Yes Fella?

You okay?

I'm fine son, I'm fine really. I just needed a sec'; sorry bud.

Fine? Really ? You sure?

I'm absolutely 'fine' son. I'm chuffed because you phoned me, I'm pleased because you were honest and I'm even happier because I wanted you to phone and tell me and you did! I already knew about the detention because the school emailed me too tell me.

Oh god, they emailed you!

Yes they emailed me, I thought you might know.

I had no idea Dad I thought because we live with Mum they’d only tell her.

Well now you know. I asked the school to send me school newsletters and updates by email so they do. Occasionally I get stuff about what you will be doing and this time I got one about detention. They didn't tell me why you had detention though.

Oh it was nothing serious.

Serious enough to get a detention fella so I’d still like to know.

It was stupid Dad honest, not worth it really.

Well you're sounding a bit embarrassed just go for it go on, if you've been punished by Mum I'm not going to once is enough.

Well OK, so I was messing about in a lesson spinning round on my chair when  ever the teacher turned her back on the class and then I fell off and loads of people started laughing so the teacher turned round and shouted 'what were you doing ' and I said 'nothing Miss' and she said 'well you obviously were' and she sent me to see the year tutor for disrupting class because so many of the class were laughing.

And then what?

He asked me what I thought I was doing and I said 'nothing sir' and he said 'as you seem to know how to do nothing so well, you can do nothing for an hour after school in detention.'

Oh right! Well I'm disappointed really, it seems a shame to me that you would disrupt everyone’s lesson for no good reason and it was careless to fall off your chair. What were you trying to gain from it?

I was trying to get the girl behind me to laugh.

Oh I see, well  next time don't do it during a lesson OK? You better get in school's about to start I’ll see you at the weekend okay, Love you.

Love you to Dad bye!

I am so proud! 

The Rules of Life.

The Rules of Life. I think the boys like to test me sometimes. One of the things that is difficult as a Dad with limited time is that you have to be able to overcome issues in a weekend that have been festering in the boys minds for up to two weeks.This means that when I collect them from school on the alternate Friday I get bombarded by all 3 at the same time as they get in the car. We have had to put a rule in place about not talking over each other or at the same time and another about not showing Dad the thing you did at school until we get home. If we have to park and wait for big brother to come out we take it turns to show Dad what we have in the school bag. It took a while to get this under control because naturally the boys are very excited when I collect them and are desperate to tell me all their news. Of course there is also the competitive element of telling Dad the shared experience first!  It really is not easy The point  is that we have "Rules". Simple rules but its often the case that the rules at Dads are different from the other places the boys spend time.So rules is a subject that comes up fairly often. Rules of the house are agreed by everyone and if they boys want to have a rule for something then we discuss it and if we all think its a good rule then we implement it. For example; At bed time if you get ready for bed the first time of asking without moaning or hesitating then you get to come back down and have an extra half an hour. To sit with Dad  cuddle talk  or read whatever even finish off your game if you really have too. But you have to have put dirty clothes in the laundry basket washed face and hands had a wee and brushed your teeth,.If you have missed anything  then you only get 5 minutes. It works really well and it means I have never had an issue at bedtime with any of the boys .The real reward is having a chance to read to each other. I have been encouraging the boys for some time to read to me at bed time as well as the other way round. We usually take it in turns and they absolutely love doing it. Bed times become special and something they look forward too. So a couple of years ago  my middle son came up with the following; a real doozy of a question. 'Dad, Is there one special rule?' One special rule? I suppose always say please and thank you, would be up there, why? My friends Dad said there's only one rule for life. Oh dear, this could be awkward. I don't want to undermine another parent but I also need to ensure my boys rethink comments from adults with out questioning them inappropriately or seeming  to undermine them. So I try to encourage them to think about things. Rather than always giving a straight answer maybe encourage them to find one. Maybe asking what they think and working an answer into their thoughts. Not always successfully and sometimes it's easier to give a straight response but I try not to if possible. 'Oh I see! and did he say what the rule was?' 'You know the thing you always say about do the thing you have to do the first chance you get.' 'Yeeeesssss.' 'Well his is like that. He says; "Do it to them before they do it to you"!" Oh right, Well I think I know what he means, but that's not really how I would put it. How could we say it a little different so it doesn't sound so rough do you think? I don't know Dad, it depends if you're trying to hurt someone or help them. Well we wouldn't want to hurt anyone would we? He shakes his head, The truth is buddy that there isn't one single rule. I might have put his rule a little differently some times the way we say something  can make it easier to understand. How about we change it just a little. How Dad? Well how about we say "Do it FOR them before they do it FOR you!? So it is about helping then, like helping someone that wants to help you? A word cloud to guide us! I think that's a good way to put it Phew!.... So I got to thinking, how many rules do you need?  I worry that we have too many because I don't want to stunt creativity or thought but I feel the boys enjoy being part of the process of rule making and certainly the structure  they bring seems to help everybody. So we had a chat and decided to come up with rules for Life!  WOW! really? well sort of. The boys wrote huge lists including things like don't pick  your nose and eat it! or Don't step on a stone in bare feet!?( I don't know either !).  In the end we put them all together and I edited everything and we agreed to a  maximum of 50. Still a big number and bearing in mind how many we started with,  (I think around 260!)it seemed like a good number. I have tried to make them short  and simple and over the years they have changed a little but we've kept at 50. So Ladies and Gentleman I give you!.....Da Dada Dada daa! 50 rules for life : as created by 3 boys and 1 Dad  (with judicious editing by Dad!) Admit mistakes with quickly Ask who's doing the best way to do it Be bold have no regrets Be early or on time Be regular Beware someone with nothing to lose Buy the best you can afford Call your Mum daily Carry an organ donor card Compliment someone every day Decide difficult tasks Won't go wrong Do IT the first  chance you get Do nothing when angry Drink water at every meal Enter rooms with confidence Exercise 30 mins daily Give blood yearly after you're 18 Gossip? Never! If you pay and its wrong complain It's o.k. to say "I don't know." It's good to say "I'm sorry." Keep hope alive, never take it away Keep secrets Keep your bucket list on you Keep yourself clean Learn a trade/instrument or better both Listen carefully or you may miss it Look people in the eye Make new friends, keep old ones Never cheat Never underestimate forgiveness Never walk out on a row with anyone Pay for work when done not before Pretend bravery's just as effective as real Read one new book every week Say "NO" politely but promptly Say "please" a lot. Say "thank you" more Say opening, not problem Spend less than you earn Spend the REQUIRED time at work Start everyday with a good breakfast Support a charity with time not money Treat all you meet like they were you Use debit cards NOT credit cards Wage war on  litter  Watch a sunrise as often as possible Win wars choose battles wisely Write a blog/diary daily and keep it! The End! If you'd like to add any to the list let me know.  The only "rule" is you have to remove one for each new one, it was tough, I really wanted " Always have clean polished shoes, but I had to drop it.If we adopt it I will mark it as c/o @twittername.