There’s been a lot of Father’s Day recently, hasn’t there? A gazillion Facebook/Twitter/Instagram tributes to wonderful dads and husbands, advert after advert for the perfect Father’s Day gift or event.

Last night I read something a friend had written about her dad, who has died. And it made me think, can’t we just stop Father’s Day? The glossy image of the perfect family is just too painful for too many people. Too many people have crap dads, absent dads, much loved dads who for whatever reason, cannot be with them. Too many people can’t become dad’s themselves.

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Even for those who are lucky enough to have brilliant dads and husbands like I do, it’s not a day that means anything, really. Not enough to justify all the hyperbolic nonsense that other less lucky people are subjected to.

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In our house we sort of celebrate Father’s Day, a little bit. Mostly because we don’t really celebrate Mother’s Day (as Andrew annoyingly, yet accurately, points out, I’m not his mum). And also, with a wife like me and kids like ours every day is fucking Father’s Day. So this morning Andrew got a bit of a lie-in, albeit interrupted by Raff who came tearing up the stairs with the urgent news that Andrew had left his cup out in the garden last night. Then we had homemade fairy cakes in bed, where Andrew also got to dick about on some exciting new farming app.

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His biggest treat however was not to be made to go out for Father’s Day lunch in a confined, public space with his three ‘lively’ young children. Edie, Raff and I made ‘artisanal’ pizza dough instead. Which once again Andrew had to rescue us from. Right now he is outside in a shed, setting mousetraps with the children. He’s just yelled at Bear and painted his apology on the wall. He’s a world class dad.

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And I’m not saying we shouldn’t celebrate him, or all the other millions of brilliant dads out there. So how about this instead? We do a Secret Dad Day – when we pick a random day to love bomb the shit out of our dads, but without telling anyone else. No big media campaigns, no terrible fuss that reminds other people what they don’t have. Just quietly, randomly picking a day and going to town on the dad in your life. It would work for Mother’s Day too. Perhaps with added spa vouchers?