FATHER'S DAY PONDERINGS

My parents are freakin' riots. It is a given that any time we get together, there will be laughter, and it's usually about something really stupid, but that something stupid just cracks us all up ... and we end up laughing like crazy fools. Sadly, much of the time, the laughter revolves around some sort of bodily function, but that's just the way it is. I'm not making apologies for it.

My mother has tried desparately to refine the sorry lot of us, but it just is such a lost cause. Her dream of a proper ladies died the minute our dad got his hands on us.

Papa, as I lovingly call him, is ... he's ... well, he's a one-of-a-kind sort of guy. He's taken a pretty irreverant approach to raising daughters. For instance, I can remember the night we were having a sex ed. talk at the dinner table, and he broke out into song (yes, he had a jingle) about condom use: "Don't wrap it; bag it with Baggies!" I know my mother is shrinking in her computer chair at this very moment, saying, "No, she did not just publish this to the world wide web!" Sorry, mom. :)

I also remember a time, up north at Grandma and Grandpa's cottage. I was trying desparately to get the bathing suit off my Barbie doll. I'm not sure where my mom was at that particular moment (mom was the Barbie doll expert), but I couldn't find her. So, misguided in my youth, I went to Dad and asked him to help me. It was a struggle, but he managed to peel the thing off of Barbie. Then, in an effort to make sure I was properly educated, he pointed to Barbie's chest and said, "You know what these are?"

"Nope."

"Those are boobies."

"MOM!" I hollered. "Daddy just called these boobies!"

My mother, who has the best disapproving look ever, shot one at my dad and said, "Now, why did you tell her that?"

Ah! Good times!

Dad also created a new way to wash a daughter's hair. At this same lake, mom sent him out with me to wash my hair. He had me lay down on the dock, head hanging over the edge, just like mom always did it, and scrubbed my blonde locks. Then, he took me by my ankles, and, with me screaming, dunked me up in down, head first into the lake.

Dad was also the one that convinced me Amish pigs had beards, Canadians spoke a foreign language (because it was, after all, a foreign country), and that Free Methodist Churches were called Free Methodist, because they didn't take an offering.

He has nicknames for EVERYTHING ... heaven help me if I ever try to buy Anus Candy (rather than Anise Candy) at a store ... or order Hog Rotten Potatoes rather than AuGratin Potatoes at a restaurant.

Some kids had fathers that were prim and proper and would never consider being anything but highly appropriate in front of their children. I'm glad I have the parents I have. I would rather laugh until I wet my pants over something as silly as an indiscreet "pants cough" (my father's phrase) in public than dying of embarrassment over it. Life is suppose to be fun, and my parents gave us permission to enjoy it by acting the way they did.

Comments

Anonymous said…
That was a great post. Itt got me pondering about life in general.....

Aloha,

Jeff
Shannon said…
I don't know you...I was just hitting the fun "Next Blog" button and stumbled across this...and I have to say: Wow! What a great family!! And what a great tribute to your dad!
Anonymous said…
OK I was laughing adn I knew it is ALL true (sadly. Thank you.

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