The Most Beautiful Man In The World

Yes, I see the resemblance now. We’re like twins. You’ve seen the movie, right?

“Dad! Mum says you’re fat!” yelled Master8, racing into the lounge room.

“I did not!” Tracey called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, she did,” insisted our son. “She said you were Fatio Daddio.”

“I said Fabio Daddio,” said Tracey. “As in Fabio, the most beautiful man in the world.”

Master8 rolled his eyes as if to say that was the most unlikely thing he’s ever heard. I was wondering myself.

This whole conversation was only possibly because for three days I’ve been away from work with infected everything, and today Master8 joined me in my misery.

I dislike being sick – I am the atypical man-flu man. I could be the poster child. As usual, there are good moments when I feel like I’m the world’s biggest sook and there are not so good moments when I wish for death to come swiftly and be done with it. Mostly, though, I just nap on the lounge and then mope about the house until I come to my bed and decide it could probably do with some sleeping in too. I am freakin’ exhausted.

Tracey, of course, has been brilliant with her soothing cries of, “GETAWAYFROMME!” if I so much as walk into the same room without ringing the bell she gave me on Sunday to announce my presence. Ironically, the bell says Ring For Sex, but that’s another story. (This story, if you’re interested: Ring My Bell).

Now most people around in the nineties in Australia would recognize the phrase ‘the most beautiful man in the world’ from a Shaun Micallef skit on Full Frontal, but, of course, to Master8 a full frontal is just something his little sisters do to annoy him when he’s in the shower.

This is the problem with references to popular culture, brilliant catchphrases are lost on the upcoming generations. This is why I insist my kids watch Get Smart (‘sorry about that, chief’) and I Dream of Jeannie (‘Yes, Master’) and Hogan’s Heroes (‘I know nozink!’) and all manner of other great tv shows – otherwise they won’t understand a thing I say.

And the kids pick the catch cries up quick too. Like tonight, I’m lying in bed hugging Master8 and chatting with him about how miserably sick we both are.

“You’re a good cuddler, mate,” I said to him. He had his head on my chest and it was one of those lovely, simple father/son moments. “I feel much better now.”

I started to get up.

“Well, you’re nice and soft,” the little bugger said to me. Could he mean I’m a big softy? Surely he doesn’t mean I’m soft to lie on. “Soft like a pillow,” he added.

“Gee, thanks,” I said. “I think.”

“Night, Fatio Daddio, the most beautiful man in the world.”

‘It’s Fabio,” I corrected him.

“Sure, Dad,” he said, patting my tummy.

And I heard Tracey give an evil sort of snort chuckle from the next room.

Shaun Micallef’s Fabio. That’s more me, only skinnier. Apparently.

When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes,

Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’  Facebook Page.

 ’raising a family on little more than laughs’


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