Tonight I’m randomly mad at the internal logic of the song ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’.
The narrator’s argument is that his son has grown up just like him because he never had time to hang out with his boy, and now that his boy’s grown up he has no time to hang out with his father. But what his son actually says is that he doesn’t have time because, among other things, his kid’s got the ‘flu.
Being too busy to spend grown up time with your father because you’re looking after your sick kid is super not the same thing as being an unavailable father. You self-absorbed jerk.
I really need you to come to uni and say things like this to me in class because otherwise I am going to be writing Marketing/Communication anthropomorphic personification fic and it will not end well.
That fic sounds kind of delightful, tho :)