paleoanthrop

Mom, me and the non-existent dead gerbil, Marvin.

So, where my parents live there is a small road that leads to a cul de sac and my parents's drive comes off the cul de sac and contines about a 1/4 mile to the house. Across the street from the small road that enters into their area is a man named Burley Wayne (first and middle name, he uses both). He lives in this house with his son and next door to his house is a trailer that apparently his wife and the mother of his son lives. I am not sure why, but I have heard that her plastic cup collection is so large, she needs the space. Burley Wayne and his wife, Gene, have decorated their yard with plastic flowers planted in the ground and those plastic birds that have the wings that circle around when the wind blows. Like these:

http://www.mindspring.com/~erhoades...t/yardart01.jpg
 

Dad and the endless family drive in upstate New York
A long as crap Dad chronicle story

I was actually there for this one, so this is not second hand from mom. My dad grew up in a small town in Upstate New York on one of the Finger Lakes. I am not going to say which one, mainly because you would never know how to pronounce it anyway as it is one of those long Indian names that isn’t pronounced the way it is spelled. Let’s just say a small town on the Finger Lakes in Upstate New York, OK?

Until my father’s father died my immediate family used to visit up there every year or two. I think this story is actually from the last visit we made up there except for the one where we went up for my grandfather’s memorial service. The cast of characters are:

Me
Mom
Dad
Gran-gran (my dad’s dad)
Mimsie (my dad’s mom)
A station wagon

Dad and the Goose Calls
A Dad chronicle story


This one is pretty short.

My mom's parents lived in Waco, Texas up until a few years ago when they packed up and moved to NC to be near mom. My parents were heading over to my grandparents house for dinner one day and my dad had brought his goose calls with him. I am not really sure why he took them with him except that he knew they bugged the hell out of my mom. Mom is driving and my dad is in the passenger seat making goose call noises. REALLY LOUDLY


Dad: HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!
(go here: http://www.cobproducts.com/Retail/g...goose_calls.htm and click on hear the calls. BUT make sure you turn up the volume as loud as it will go to get the full effect)

Mom: "Dave, I have a headache. Please stop."

Dad: *gives mom an evil eye. HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

Mom: "God damn it Dave!"

Dad rolls down his window and throws his calls out of the moving car on to the side of the road.

Mom drives a couple of more minutes, then pulls into a driveway, turns around and starts to head back to their house.

Dad: "Where are you going?"

Mom: "Since we have decided to act like 12 year olds, I think we should just go home instead of inflicting this on my parents."

Dad: "Oh. Well, could you stop here and let me get my goose calls?"

Mom: "No! You can come back and get them yourself."

My parents get back home. Dad gets into the drivers seat and goes off to look for the goose calls he threw out the window. He has to wander up and down the side of the road for awhile, but he does find them. Mom calls her parents and explains that they are not coming to dinner. I think she just told them that they were having a disagreement.

Dad and the Toaster Oven
a Dad chronicle story

My dad's mom (Mimsie) and his oldest sister came for a visit. Dad decided to make them lunch in the form of chicken salad sandwiches (of course we don't eat sandwiches anymore-or if we do, it is a half sandwich on low carb bread). All sandwiches are to be on toast. The toast part is very important because on my dad's side of the family, sandwiches are ALWAYS on toast. It is a rule. Cheese is optional, but toast is not. They are totally wacked out on that side of the family. Mom tells me this story over the phone. But the best part is at the end. Believe me.

A dad chronicle story

This happened in late summer/early fall 2004

The weekend before my brother and his family took a big old jet airliner carrying them too far away-my parents went to spend a couple of hours with them. Of course, my brother and SIL were busy getting their house ready to pack up, so mom and dad decided to help them. For some reason that I am not sure of or really just don't remember when I was told, the washing machine and outdoor grill had to be taken out to the dump. So, my dad tries to move the washer all by himself. Why? Because he is just that way. As he drags it across the floor, he rips the linoleum. My SIL tells him, "You are tearing up the floor." My dad replies with, "No, I'm not." But, of course there is a big rip in the floor. I guess he couldn't see it from behind the washer and also couldn't hear himself tear up the floor from the sound of his manly muscles bulging.

Dad and the kitchen fire
A Dad chronicle story

Again, my mom told this story to me. Many of our bonding talks are stories about my dad.

Dad and the long walk home
a true story by Paleoanth