Filed under: Musings of a Random Nature
It has become apparent to me that yesterday’s post might possibly have given the impression that my father is creepy, so I feel the need to set the record straight. My father is my favorite person in the world, and not in a Kathyrn Harrison kind of way. The roof/furnance comment was funny to me because, well, I just think it’s funny, but also, it was one of those moments where you are confronted with the brutal awareness that your parents are familiar with the concept of intercourse. I mean, you know they are because they had to have sex to make you, but that knowledge is kind of like your awareness of your own mortality: you know you’re going to die one day but you sure as shit avoid thinking about it at all costs. Plus it was the added gross-out combo of not sex and old people, which is always a winner.
Anyways, point is, my father is a man who actually says Goodnight to the dog every night, tucks him into his dog bed and covers him with a doggy blanket (actually a pillowcase), all while telling him he’s the best, most handsome dog in the world. He may be a little weird and overly protective of his loved ones, he may ask me if I’m sober every time I come home later than 6pm, he may require that I avoid listening to my “wigger music” when in the car with him, and he may drop peanut skins on the floor on the regular, but he’s not creepy. He also recently learned to text message, and has jumped from one-word texts to full sentences. Occassionally he’ll even throw two full sentences into one text. Gotta love that.
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