My One Dad

In honor of Father's Day, I present you with two lists.

Ways That I Am Just Like Dad

1. I love to walk. Dad, when he was well, would walk several miles each and every single day, no matter what. I love to walk too. There is nothing I would rather do than take a walk with or without a pal in tow. Granted, I don't always wear walk-appropriate shoes, but still. Strolling is how I be rolling.

2. We both, at one point in our lives, owned Members Only jackets. Mine was lavender. His was grey.

3. We both shake our heads when the commercials for Benny Hill dvds come on, but we both laugh at them anyway.

4. I don't know how I picked this one up, but I wash my hands like a doctor. I have no choice but to admit I got this from my dad. I make sure my entire hands are thoroughly scrubbed, front and back and between all my fingers, and then I turn the faucet off with my elbow and walk over to the towel rack with my hands raised up in the air, palms facing me. Nordic Boy finds this INCREDIBLY WEIRD. Astonishingly, no one else I know has ever called me out on this.

5. I prefer to eat things with a spoon, even if they are fork foods. Pie? Spoon. Green beans? Spoon, please. When my dad does this, it drives my mom batty. When I do it also, it almost drives her to violence.

6. My Dad speaks English-English, not American English. I have picked up the following phrases from him, and have to consciously Americanize the way I say them:

I want to say "post a letter" not "mail a letter"
or, "have a shower" not "take a shower"
or, "hostel" instead of "dorm."


Ways My Dad and I Differ

1. I curse too fucking much. Sorry, Dad.

2. That dude can watch/read the news until the cows come home. BBC News, New York Times, CNN news, C-Span, Bill Moyers, The Economist, David Brancaccio, AAAAHHHHHH! I can't handle the sheer volume of news sources. On the bright side, when my Dad refers to the Dow Jones index, he refers to it like Dow Jones is a dude. He cracks himself up doing that, and I crack up with him. I don't know why it's funny. It just is.

3. Dad actually ENJOYS story problems. You know, this train is heading east from New York at 45 miles per hour and that train is heading west from Jersey at 25 miles an hour and so what time will it be in Kankakee when they have a head on collision. Straight up story problems, involving math and logic and a pencil and paper. He thinks they are fun. Like, when we would sit around the fireplace during the holidays, having a grand old time, my dad would bust out some crazy ass story problem, like it was a GAME. It's not a game, Dad. FOOSBALL is a game.

4. Dad doesn't like mushrooms. He says he can't get over the idea that he's eating a fungus. I, on the other hand, am a fungus eating foo'.

5. My dad once said that Charlie Brown had the right idea. His closet is full of the same exact outfit, and he never has to decide what to wear. He just wears the same damn thing every day. I am having trouble breathing just writing that.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl