It's Father's Day tomorrow. Well, that's probably got a few of you in a panic and planning a trip to the local Clinton's – assuming that it hasn't just been closed down. One of the reasons you may not have known (like a good few in the i office) is that it is nowhere near as big as Mother's Day. Some of you may think that's exactly as it should be; some may be outraged. Others may not give a fig, arguing, as I often do about these commemorative days, that they are Hallmark Holidays, designed to stimulate revenue for the greetings card and other "gifting" industries.

However, when my friend Lenny here at i told me that she still made a personalised card for her dad at the ripe old age of ... well, it set me thinking about the joyful relationship between most fathers and daughters.

I know I've joked in the past in this space how my own cheeky pair have already picked out a "home" for me in my old age, serendipitously right next door to Craven Cottage, but I truly feel I am privileged to have such an excellent relationship with mine – particularly given they are 15 and 14, potentially an age where dads are forced to back off entirely.

It's a stage when we have no idea of their true thoughts on boys, relationships and all the "joys" of leaving childhood behind. I would be kidding myself if I thought I was privy to everything these days. Any father that thinks he might be is delusional.

I don't know about you other dads, but part of me misses those far-off early days of blind adoration. Mostly, however, I enjoy the depth and daily surprise of a relationship I never really knew (my poor ma was twice widowed), and relish the emerging intellects and evolving personalities.

So, if dad pretends not to care about Father's Day, give him a card, a call or a present (or all three). He will love it, whatever he says.

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