A word to the wise….
A word to the wise aint’ necessary; it’s the stupid ones that need the advice. -Bill Cosby
….. don’t expect to have a intelligent conversation with your father at 12:15 in the morning when he’s doped on Nyquil. Aint’ gonna happen.
How do I know this? Well how do you think I know it? I tried to have a intelligent conversation with my father at 12:15 in the morning while he was doped on Nyquil. (My dad’s been having major allergies).
In order to understand why I thought this was so funny, I need to let you in on a little secret: my dad can’t read between the lines if his life depended on it. His mentality is “Well they told me___. They must be telling the truth, right? They wouldn’t say one thing and mean another, right?” My mom has been telling me that he’s improved a lot since they first got married. I find that hard to believe at times.
My mother has also been telling me. “God put your dad in my life so that he can tell me how life’s supposed to be. God put me in his life so that I can tell him how it actually is.” To this day, they have yet to disappoint me on that account.
Another small piece of information you might need to know. I kinda, sorta, technically have two rooms. One room I actually sleep and live in. The other is where I have a table and a desk and a few bookshelves. That room I call the loft. I also have an extra bed in there in the event that we have company or I want to relax on the bed and read. Such an occasion has yet to arise.
However, because of my dad’s crazy work schedule, he sometimes goes to sleep up there where it’s more quiet and warmer. That’s what he did last night. So he goes up there around 9, while me and my mom do whatever it has we happened to be doing at the time. My mom was playing LOTRO and I was finishing last minute GB homework. Eventually we finish what we’re doing, and we start to get ready for bed. So I go upstairs and start to talk to my dad. The conversation went something like this:
Me: “Okay, Dad, you can go to bed downstairs now.” Dad doesn’t move. “… unless you want to stay up here.” (don’t know exactly what possessed me to say that.)
Dad: (blankets shuffle) “Umm….. well the alarm clock isn’t working right. But it is warmer up here.”
Me: (I’m half trying to be nice and half trying to be subtle about him needing to go downstairs) “Well, I can fix that for you if you want.” Note: the alarm clock is like 2 feet away from the bed, barricaded by telescope I never use. Plus the alarm clock is an hour off from the correct time because I was too lazy to fix it when the power went out a month or so ago.
Dad: “You go ahead and do that. Thanks dear.” My dad has a habit of making his requests sound more like demands, so I feel like I don’t really have a choice.
Me: “Uh… ok.” *trips over telescope and crouches in awkward position.* “What time do you want me to set it for?”
Dad: “Uh… 3:30.”
*Just about dies from shock at such a ridiculous hour. Finally fixes the alarm clock 5 minutes later*
Me: “There. It’s fixed. But since it’s over on the book shelf 2 feet away from the bed, you’ll have to get up to shut it off.”
Me: “… or I can move it over to the nightstand?”
Dad: “Ah, thanks dear. That would be great.” This again feels more like a demand than a request, so I capitulate.
*trips over telescope again. Moves a kleenex box, a lamp, and 3 books in order to make room on the nightstand*
Me: “Okay, there you go.”
This whole time I’m trying to subtly point out to him through almost killing myself setting the alarm and rearranging the nightstand that he should probably going downstairs. Throwing all subtlety to the wind, I say:
Me: “Mom’s not gonna be happy if you don’t go downstairs.”
Me: (fidgets) “You want me to go tell her?”
Dad: “That would be great. Thanks dear.”
Trying to not let out a sigh, I romp down the stairs towards my parent’s bedroom. I proceed to tell my mother the whole story, and she sighs. “You’re a good daughter. Thanks for trying.”
And thus is my father.
You might not think that’s funny, but I thought it was hilarious. Then again, at 12:15 at night, I think everything is hilarious.
My dad’s an engineer. This might also explain why I thought it was so funny. My entire life has been filled with moments like these.
Anyway, hope this made you laugh. 🙂
“An optimist will tell you the glass is half-full; the pessimist, half-empty; and the engineer will tell you the glass is twice the size it needs to be”