Doing Father-and-Son things
The Scene:
My house, 6:45 am
(Visualize a split screen with a jagged-y lightning-ish line separating the screen halves)
Phone rings
Dad: Listen, my phone doesn't work.
Me: How are you calling me?
Dad: Well, it works going out.
Me: yes...and?
Dad: I need you to come over here and help me with it.
Me: How could I possibly be of any use? You sh...
Dad: You're good with these things.
Me: No, actually, I am not.
Dad: Oh, please, I've seen that stereo thing of yours.
Me: Dad, those are two unrelated things.
Dad: So when will you be by?
Me: You don't need me. You shou...
Dad: I was thinking I could call the house as you play with the phones, until one of them rings.
Me: Dad, that's why you pay the phone company, they send a guy to look at things and fix them. He is even qualified to climb the telephone poles. I'm not qualified, because you always told me to get down from there and that I was going to rip my pants.
Dad: But I don't have the number.
Me: It's in the phone book.
Dad: OMG, why must everything be so complicated with you?
Me: Just dial the phone company and tell them what's wrong. It's pretty simple, easily done.
Dad: And what are we to do until then? We'll be missing a lot of phone calls.
Me: Dad, YOU are the one who always gets mad when the phone rings because it's always for Mom. If it means that much to you holler "It's for you!" just forward the calls to your cell phone.
Dad: Again with the complications!
Me: Dad, why are you paying for the phone forwarding service? Just send it to your cell phone.
Dad: It's in the car.
Me: Get it out of the car.
Dad: The battery will drain.
Me: [sigh] Plug it into that wall thingy.
Dad: But what happens if I leave, huh?
Me: Oh, please...just forward it to Mom's phone, then. The calls are all for her anyway.
[pause]
Dad: Okay. Now you're making sense. Why the Hell didn't you say that in the first place?
Me: I love you Dad, but now I have to get into my coffin before the sun rises.
Fade out.
My house, 6:45 am
(Visualize a split screen with a jagged-y lightning-ish line separating the screen halves)
Phone rings
Dad: Listen, my phone doesn't work.
Me: How are you calling me?
Dad: Well, it works going out.
Me: yes...and?
Dad: I need you to come over here and help me with it.
Me: How could I possibly be of any use? You sh...
Dad: You're good with these things.
Me: No, actually, I am not.
Dad: Oh, please, I've seen that stereo thing of yours.
Me: Dad, those are two unrelated things.
Dad: So when will you be by?
Me: You don't need me. You shou...
Dad: I was thinking I could call the house as you play with the phones, until one of them rings.
Me: Dad, that's why you pay the phone company, they send a guy to look at things and fix them. He is even qualified to climb the telephone poles. I'm not qualified, because you always told me to get down from there and that I was going to rip my pants.
Dad: But I don't have the number.
Me: It's in the phone book.
Dad: OMG, why must everything be so complicated with you?
Me: Just dial the phone company and tell them what's wrong. It's pretty simple, easily done.
Dad: And what are we to do until then? We'll be missing a lot of phone calls.
Me: Dad, YOU are the one who always gets mad when the phone rings because it's always for Mom. If it means that much to you holler "It's for you!" just forward the calls to your cell phone.
Dad: Again with the complications!
Me: Dad, why are you paying for the phone forwarding service? Just send it to your cell phone.
Dad: It's in the car.
Me: Get it out of the car.
Dad: The battery will drain.
Me: [sigh] Plug it into that wall thingy.
Dad: But what happens if I leave, huh?
Me: Oh, please...just forward it to Mom's phone, then. The calls are all for her anyway.
[pause]
Dad: Okay. Now you're making sense. Why the Hell didn't you say that in the first place?
Me: I love you Dad, but now I have to get into my coffin before the sun rises.
Fade out.
Comments
After I hang up the phone I remember that my mom spent a day in the hospital last week (she has a situation with rapid heartbeat) and even though her cardiologist said the same thing he did when this last happened 8 years ago ("you're fine"), and even though she's a RN and should know better, she was freaking out. So I called her last night to apologize for upsetting her. She told me that of course they were going to come to see us at the track and acted like all of the stuff from the last week was someone else.
I have no idea why I wrote all of this down. Maybe because reading that other people's parents have their own ways of driving their children crazy comforts me.
It's a thing with people who are our parents' age. I just sigh and roll my eyes and keep going.
Badger,
I must also one day share tales of my mother who is convinced that ANYTHING my old man does (bringing the wrong brand of cream cheese, f'rinstance) is a clear sign of advanced Alzheimer's.