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Showing posts from August 28, 2011

What do families talk about at Thanksgiving if they're not snarky?

My dad is like a big kid. Always laughing and joking and hanging out with friends and never wanting to come home. But he does. Sometimes under the influence of alcohol, but he always comes home. He's always worked hard to support his family - two or three jobs, and even now in retirement, he continues to work. He's got a pretty great work ethic which makes me wonder why I managed to date every unemployed idiot in our county. He's pretty much had poor health his entire life (many times he had way worse than poor health) yet he never complains about it. You know those people that have to whine and cry and tell the world every time they have an ache or pain or a hang nail; yeah, we get it. You don't feel well. Ever. If my dad had been like that we would have killed him long ago.

Basically, my father has a pretty decent sense of humor. He "gets me." Which can be scary.

A couple weeks ago I gave him some balls for his birthday because he's old and he might lo…

There are WAY MORE than just 4 things that will make me go insane. Trust me.

If I could guarantee I'd be one of those wearing floppy sun hats while driving my convertible with the top down in the middle of winter, dancing in the fountain at the downtown plaza kind of crazy people, I would gladly welcome insanity. Unfortunately, it's more likely I'll end up one of those haven't taken a shower in eight months, walking up and down main street with my hands clasped together while shouting vulgarities at passing school children kind. If it comes to that, I blame this:

Exhibit A: the ugly coffee table.
Big V had this table before I moved in. Yes, it's real wood. That's about the only thing it has going for it.
He's never used a coaster. So there are water marks every where. And dog scratches. And random Sharpie marks because he never quite got the whole "it bleeds through" concept. It's not pretty. And it's huge. Plus, it's round. And I despise round. Unless it's a chocolate mousse pie. Then round is okay. I prefer…

Like I have a medical degree.

You know that person who every time he meets a girl working at a strip club she turns out to be psycho so you just want to turn to him and yell for the love of cheese - stop picking up girls in strip joints!

Or that mom who every time her kids get hurt she thinks it's not a big deal but it turns out to be pretty important, like the time her daughter broke her arm in two places yet she drove around with the kid to do errands (and vote) and days later the doctors were all what kind of mother are you?! And that same mother probably didn't take the whole broken nose or torn ligament thing seriously either, so you just want to scream at her for the love of cheese - justtake your kids to the ER!

I'm sort of like one of those kinds of people. But less of the picking up chicks in strip clubs kind.

So, this weekend Dotter took a digger on her bike. And her whining was driving me crazy. I finally took her in after she screamed, "I could die because of loss of blood, Mom!" (…