The family and I went on a rail and sail excursion from Sydney to Wollongong.  Nothing remarkable about that except it was on a 1928 steam train and, given my excitement and how much enjoyment it afforded me, I can only conclude that I have in fact turned into my father.

I discovered that this process was irreversible a few years back and made a conscious decision not to fight it but to just let it happen. My metamorphosis was nearly complete at Christmas when we spent some time together. It was very unnerving to find myself sitting around the table and becoming conscious of the fact that I was expertly demonstrating many of the old man’s mannerisms. In fact we have become so similar our conversations about maps, kites and the merit of B roads were enjoyable and proactively sought out.

This weekend’s trip has finally completed my transformation.   If any further evidence is really required then the great conversation I had with a fellow passenger in our carriage about the Albion Park Air show and the assortment of WWII flying aircraft really draws the case for the prosecution to a close.

I know I am not alone in undergoing this change, for those of you who are still in denial, stop fighting the inevitable.

“Nature or Nurture?” it doesn’t matter, either way it is your parents fault.

I am now going to buy myself a shed and retire to the garden. Deep Joy!