Hello! Welcome to the Slack Dad website. This rudimentary and ill-thought-out site is a place where you can buy Slack Dad mugs and T-shirts, learn how to become a Slack Dad, read a bunch of old columns I wrote, buy Slack Dad mugs and T-shirts, post your own advice or reminiscences about being a Slack Dad, assuming you are one (if you are a fraud, and are in fact an Attentive, Caring Dad, you will be discovered and gently asked to leave, unless you stop in and buy a Slack Dad mug or T-shirt, in which case you will be indulged). You can also buy Slack Dad mugs and T-shirts. For the rest of the sales spiel, click here.
Slack Dad was dreamed up in response to a commission from the Guardian newspaper’s parents page. Having been asked to react to some piece of stupid research from the Department Of The Bleeding Obvious, he came up with this, which set the tone for such columns for the next six years. Fans of the column include Julian Barnes, the Dalai Lama, the lead singer of the Alabama 3, my friend Matthew, and some bloke who wrote to the paper.
Now that the newspaper has decided to give the column a break, perhaps permanently, I thought it might be a nice idea to allow the last column to contain tips, questions, reminiscences, and whatnot, from the public. Go to the Forum or feedback pages, it doesn’t really matter much in the end which, to ask those burning questions or offer those bits of advice or whatever.
Note that this is not a mission statement. Mission statements make us feel ill. For a start, we are not on a mission, unless it is perhaps to sell some of our splendid mugs and T-shirts. No, what we have is a code. Core beliefs that we stick to. That we can print out, pin up on a wall and salute every morning. Or memorize so that we know what to do in any given situation. It is like those people who ask “what would Jesus do?” but replacing the word “Jesus” with the words “Slack Dad”. The answer, of course, to “what would Slack Dad do?” is, almost invariably, “nothing”.
This is a question to which you should know the answer by now. I was thinking of doing one of those quizzes which pose an idiotic question and offer four alternative answers which offer a number of points depending on which one you choose. You know the kind of thing.
Your child screams for you. It appears she has nearly severed her index finger with the bread knife. Do you:
Well, I decided not to do one of these quizzes because they’re bogus, and even if you’re trying to be funny you run out of jokes a lot quicker than you think you’re going to. No, what we have instead is:
The Slack Dad Code
Note that this is not a mission statement. Mission statements make us feel ill. For a start, we are not on a mission, unless it is perhaps to sell some of our splendid mugs and T-shirts. No, what we have is a code. Core beliefs that we stick to. That we can print out, pin up on a wall and salute every morning. Or memorize so that we know what to do in any given situation. It is like those people who ask “what would Jesus do?” but replacing the word “Jesus” with the words “Slack Dad”.
Honest, we do. Slack dad is no monster. Sometimes shouting is unavoidable, for children are both intransigent and daft. This is why they are not allowed to drive cars or vote, and we are. We will not discuss smacking, except to say that Slack Dad is, in theory, a non-violent animal. Walloping your kids is your business.
Never, EVER say this. EVER! Boy, must you never say this. Even if you think it. Especially if you think it. You have no idea what will happen to you if you say it. The shitstorm that will happen to you if you say that you never really felt like having offspring, and that it was only relentless emotional blackmail/some sneaky business with the contraceptive device/lack of any reasonable alternative that got you cornered into this mess, will be unbelievably awesome. It will be like those films about tornadoes or the end of the world, except it will be happening to YOU. In fact, if you do say it, and somehow manage to survive the carnage that happens to you, do write in and tell us about it. Don’t send pictures, we don’t want that kind of stuff on our site
Some fathers believe that half an hour spent bugging the hell out of their children, or engaging in some kind of footling, pointless “activity” (“hey! Let’s make paper planes!”) is an adequate substitute for never being there the rest of the time. Well, if your life is so unfortunately arranged that you’re hardly ever at home, then it may distress you to learn that you’re barking up the wrong tree. All that so-called quality time with your children will do is allow what is already nascent in them, their contempt and scorn for their fathers, ripen into fullness. And you don’t want that. All time is “quality time”.
It is well known that Japanese sushi chefs do not allow their apprentices to touch a knife, or even speak to them, for two years. All they are meant to do is watch, and learn. Similarly, a child watching his father sit back in an armchair and read the paper is not encouraged to ask “why are you reading the newspaper, daddy?” He or she is simply meant to admire your Zen inner calm. If the child persists, we suggest you point to your Slack Dad t-shirt and say nothing. Haven’t got a Slack Dad t-shirt? This way, then.
Listen, is it too much to ask to be allowed to read the newspaper or have a nap once in a while? We have to read newspapers so that we know what is happening in the world, and we need to know that because we need to keep our children informed and up-to-date. Yes, they also have to be informed about the football results, that’s why we’re reading them. The same goes for the crossword and the TV listings. As for naps, every Professor of Sleepology knows that if the adult male does not have a nap once a day his brain will explode. Look it up on the net some time. Try this link
Much is made of the “hands-on” practice of parental involvement, in which ... well, we don’t know exactly what “hands-on” means either, but it sounds awfully vulgar. Remember what D.H. Lawrence said: “How to begin to educate a child. First rule, leave him alone. Second rule, leave him alone. Third rule, leave him alone. That is the whole beginning.”
We are always There for our children. “There” is:
Children can check that we are “There” whenever they like, within reason. Then they can go and ask Unslack Mum whatever it was they needed.
This is what we say to our children when we have had our joyous fill of their company. If the Slack Dad t-shirts do well enough, we might consider using this one as a slogan, too.
There are plenty of books about fatherhood out there. Pretty much all of them tell you how to be a better, more hands-on parent. What good is that to you? We have a team of practical, hard-headed experts, ready to give you advice on any aspect of fathering that mystifies you. Send in questions and we will do our best to answer you.