My dad told me that his co-workers are beginning to read my blog. He said they want to “see what he’s like at home,” and get a better feel for his personal life. So, being the doting daughter and altruistic human-being that I am, I will continue to foster this bond between my father and his co-workers until I am certain that they all share a deeper, more heartfelt understanding of each other.
Thus, an update on Dad:
Last Tuesday, a strong storm struck our area. On my lunch break, I turned on the news to find them reporting from the entrance of my neighborhood in a story about an alleged tornado touchdown.
My first thought was “I hope Jessie didn’t let Buster out this morning.” (Quickly followed by, “I hope Jessie’s okay.”)
On my way home from work, my dad called me to tell me that our power would be out for several days. For the record, my dad loves it when our power goes out for extensive periods of time. Not only does it mean a lower electricity bill, but it also sets the stage for what my dad believes to be some sort of dramatic, Oregon Trailistic adventure. While I panic over a potentially fan-less night and milk-less breakfast, my dad pulls out the bourbon and contemplates life as Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I could clearly hear the giddy excitement in his voice as he relayed the power-outage situation to me over the phone. He all but giggled when he told me that I should “probably move out for a few days”.
“It’s going to be bad, Jo. Real cold. You’ll hate it. Don’t you have a boyfriend you can go stay with, or something?”
“God, Jo. Well, I’m just telling you, I don’t know how long it’ll be out for — hours, days, a week… who knows!”
By the time I got home from work, the power was already back on. My dad was slightly miffed by this, but he quickly recovered when he realized that this meant he could watch the series premiere of Alcatraz he’d DVRd the night before.
My dad then began to question Jessie about the safety measures she took during storm. He was highly impressed with the fact that she took shelter with Tommy and Darcy — the lizard and the bird. Then he turned to me.
“Joanna, would you have saved Tommy?”
“No. Would Tommy have saved me?”
“Would Buster have saved you?”
“Probably, yes.” Buster’s been waking me up every morning by standing directly on my throat/chest and demanding his breakfast. Since he’s senile, he often pulls this stunt in the middle of the night, as well. Thus, I’m fairly certain that if a tornado struck whilst he was hungry (anytime of the day or night), he’d wake me up anyways for want of treats and snacks.
“No, Buster wouldn’t save you,” my dad responded. “If Buster were going to die of exposure, he’d kill you in your sleep and use your blood to keep warm.”
Direct quote — I kid you not. It’s horrible, I know. While my dad was obviously joking, it wasn’t long before I became haunted by visions of Buster starring in a chilling and twisted Bunnicula spinoff.
And that is my update on Dad. Hopefully he’ll allow me to continue these debriefings, but if not — stay tuned for his counter-blog, which is sure to hit the blogosphere sometime soon.
Ps. I apologize for the disturbing language — I just couldn’t resist sharing such a gem of a quote.