Can you fix it for me?

I know this sounds like it might be a Jimmy Savile post,but it’s not.
My boiler’s broken (not my bunny boiler), so I’ve got no heating or hot water, and I don’t know how to fix it. When I was younger, I’d ask my dad what to do. My dad could fix anything. He knew how to do everything.
My new toy wasn’t working. Dad would fix it.
The cooker wasn’t coming on. Dad would fix it.
The car was misfiring. Dad would fix it.
A problem with the washing machine. Dad would fix it. He was a proper Bob the Builder.
But then came a day when I learnt the awful truth. I was in my mid-twenties, and my tape recorder (yes – I am that old), my tape recorder wasn’t working. I had an idea what might be wrong, but I wasn’t sure, so I asked my dad. He suggested something that caused the scales to fall from my eyes.
He was a bodger! He didn’t know how to fix these things any more than I did. His mechanical solutions kept the makers of gaffer tape in business for years. He’d been winging it all this time. I’d got my damage-it-yourself genes from him after all.
So now, I’m just waiting for the day when my children ask me to mend something, I suggest a fix, and they say, “You’ve got to be joking!” A weight of responsibility will be lifted from my shoulders.

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2 thoughts on “Can you fix it for me?

  1. It’s a sad day when the cape falls from your dad’s shoulders to reveal the masking tape underneath. All dad’s are fix-it heroes until one day…

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