Labour day Monday.

Yes, Labour weekend tomorrow.

Yeah, word is my father was born on Labour day.

Really..? Some might consider that ironic.

What? Oh yeah, his mum being in labour on Labour day.

Well yes, that too, although I was actually referring to our Labour day baby’s penchant for hard labour.

Oh, yeah, that, but hard labour’s what farmers do.

True enough, but not all farmers are born on Labour day.

Not all farmers are my dad either.

Another good point.

But this year his birthday’s tomorrow, not Labour day.

Yeah, that’ll happen, it’s that whole ‘leap year phenomenon’ thing.

Really, is that what they call it?

That’s what I’m calling it, just now.

Well, Dad’s turning 60 this year.

That is correct.

It’s pretty old.

According to my calculations it’s right on the edge, but still technically middle aged.

Still pretty old though.

Middle aged.

It’s pretty old.

Alright, yes, quite old – almost as old as you’ll be when you’re 60.

What? Nah, oh … What?

I said, you’ll be there one day.

Oh nah, yeah but I’ll never be old old.

Of course not.

Yeah man, 60’s old.

Alright, just be sure to wish him a happy birthday from me.

What? From me or from you..?

I don’t suppose it really matters.

Oh, we’ll do it together then.

Alright then.

Happy birthday, old man.

Nice one.

 

 

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Leah Bar Deigh

Photography by Bert Day Buoy