Dads.

We all know dads only exist to embarrass their children and wives. Everybody knows. It's a fact. But I mean, really, there's no need for the constant reminder.

Last night, for example, was one outing - to a primary school Christmas concert, so no real biggie, but at least four times, FOUR TIMES, I wanted to crawl inside a hole and stay there internally groaning the rest of my existence away.

First off, the combination of brown moccasins, grey holden track suit pants, navy blue grandpa cardi, army cap and popped collar, large reading glasses and a balding white head do not mesh. Like, at all. I don't know who let him out of the house... My father is the type of man who always claps the loudest and longest, and in the primary school court yard where there's decent echo and acoustics its like clapping next to a megaphone.

"No, he's not with me".

He's the type of man who feels the need to give a running commentary on how the person next to us is consuming their hot dog or how they should consume their hot dog, not troubling to lower his voice, play downball with a bunch of preppies with the same enthusiasm you'd expect whilst watching the footy and oh, get this, force me into social annihilation in the space of five minutes.

Some background info for that last one: My 6 year old niece, Tyra, wants to hook me up with her sports teacher - Mr Briggs.

Need I say any more? Of course not, but I will just so you can live this pain with me.

Dad, the old codger, took it seriously when I joked to Tyra about only going to the concert to see Mr Briggs (who, I have to say, I had never seen before - and is quite fit actually). So dad, in his tactless and wannabe-cupid-way, goes off after the concert to go and speak to one of the teachers. Me, wanting to leave asap (I was hungry ok? I hadn't had dinner), went on a search for the car keys. So I find him, chatting away as he does, and as I approach I hear him say "Here she is, this is the one I was talking about". All that was going through my head was "Nooooooooo!".

"This is the one that likes Mr Briggs". Just like that.

As I scramble to save face, "What?! I don't like Mr Briggs!"

"Yes you do, you said so in the car"

"I was joking! Tyra is the one who wanted to set us up, I've never even seen Mr Briggs!"

"OHHH, TYYYYRA", as he nudges Mr Briggs' co-worker.

"Well, that's Mr Briggs over there, he was a very promising football player until he did his hip", smirked Mr Briggs' co-worker.

"Yes he looks like a decent football player. Handsome young fellow"

"Dad I need the keys"

"Why don't you go over and say hello, this fellow here is just filling in for him"

"Dad, seriously I'm not interested!"

"Of course you are, he's strapping young lad"

"Daaaaaaaad"

"Come on, I'll go over with you"

"DAD! GIVE ME THE KEYS!!!"

Dad and Mr Briggs' co-worker: chuckle, chuckle, chortle, chortle.

1. Dad, don't ever try to help in that department.
2. DAD, DON'T EVER TRY TO HELP IN THAT DEPARTMENT.

Cringe.