It’s nice (in some ways) to know that my father is just as barmy as I am on occasion.

Last weekend, we drove down to Oxfordshire for my dad’s 65th birthday, where he was having a surprise party organised by my mum and their friends. It was a fun evening, even with the 2hr drive on either side of it. Only, because I’m a prat (and was tired, I admit) I forgot my camera, and left it down in Oxfordshire. Arses.

Anyway, I was planning to get it sometime during the week while I was already travelling blummin’ miles, but traffic (and more accurately, traffic jams) conspired against that happening. Double Arses.

On Friday, my dad called and left a message on my mobile, which I clean forgot about, and didn’t get round to listening to.

So it was a complete surprise when the daft bugger turned up on the doorstep yesterday lunchtime, along with my camera.  It turned out that my mum was on a day out somewhere, so once he’d dropped her off in [local town] he’d decided to give the car a run, and come out here, drop off the camera, look at the changes we’d done to the house since they were last up here, and then drive back – all told, nearly 300-mile round-trip.

Utterly, utterly barmy.

Of course, it’s much appreciated, and means I’ve got my camera back. And it shows pretty well where I’ve inherited my lack of concern regarding mileage and long(ish) drives from…