Last night while visiting my parents for dinner at their house, my Dad said to me: "Hey, want to see something gross?"
I said "Mmmm. No."
Which to him means "Of course I do! Show me now."
So he rolled up his sleeve and showed me the almost healed incision on his shoulder. He had surgery about a month ago, and sticking out of the incision was a teeny little string, about 1/8th of an inch long. It was white.
He starts pointing at it and saying "YEAH! The doctor said he's not really sure why it is there, but that he would cut it out. But he forgot by the time the appointment was over, so I came home and asked your Mom to do it for me. She said she couldn't do it without fainting."
And he said that as if he were shocked she couldn't/wouldn't do it.
I just turned away and said "DAD! Cover that up! Nobody wants to see that! You know I can't handle blood or needles or ... or... or....random string hanging out of someone's shoulder!! That's just freaky!"
My Dad has officially crossed the line from just Dad, to Dad who is now acting like a stereotypical old guy - someone who gives unwelcome medical freakshow tours of their own bodies to friends and family.
I remember when my Grandfather went into the hospital to have some kidney stones removed. After surgery, he insisted that the doctors put the stones in a vial that he could bust out at Grandpa shows. Those little presentations that he would give to unsuspecting friends, family and a few random strangers - telling them how it all went down and what the results were.
Note to potential wedding guests: At the reception, my Dad might just try and supplement the DJ entertainment by showing you how he looks like the backside of an embroidery project gone wrong.
Sure. Other weddings get drunk nurses. I get Embroidery Shoulder Man. Amd I'm related to him.
Meh. What's a wedding without some craziness, right?
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4 comments:
O H M Y G O D . . .
This is so weird --- more evidence we are related, of course --- but I was just lamenting the fact that my stepfather of 24.5 years has definitely crossed the line into "Eccentric Senior Citizen" territory --- doing ANNOYING shit in grocery stores and restaurants that make the staff nod and smile and roll their eyes the minute they walk away. Thankfully, he has no recent incisions with visible string to share, but damn, if he could, he would. He's fond of popping out his dentures like I used to pop out my retainer. Is this what we have to look forward to, as we get older? Imagine all the guy friends / brothers / brothers-in-law you have now --- 30 years from now. Will we be rolling our eyes at them when they fart, silently, and giggle with quaking shoulders and tearing eyes until the smell reaches the unsuspecting because they think it's the FUNNIEST thing in the world?
Wait, they do that now.
Terror alert: Dad also showed me he bought a book that is somewhat like a manual to the human body, and further informed me "This book says that humans fart up to 47 times a day. When I read that, I KNEW I had to buy it."
I just sat there with a "huh?" look until he went on to the next subject.
I had totally blocked that memory with the horror of the string until I read your comment!
I have a feeling our little blogs are going to be full of aging father stories - so painfully similar...
Do you, by chance, have any German or Irish in your family tree?
Oh, no. I have BOTH! My mother is very proud of the German, which is kind of scary in a weird, mountain-compound, lots of firearms kind of way.
We are both German Irish mixes. My mom being the German. My dad being the Irish.
Well I don't care what they say now. We are related. Have to be.
I WIN in this situation. I win a lot!
Go Me! I've got a sister!
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