We've got a busy weekend coming up. Well, it's a weekend full of important days, that is. Sunday, of course, is Mother's Day. I have no idea what anyone has planned; I just know I've got to get my own call in to my mom that morning. One of these days my brother and I are going to work it out and surprise her by being home at the same time (and I'm not talking Christmas either). I got to thinking that this is the fourth mom's day I haven't been around to share it with her.
I won't think about that right now.
I'll think about that tomorrow.
Tomorrow really is another day. It's my dad's birthday. I was going to write something about him on here to try to express what a great dad he is to me, but then I thought I've probably already told you all about him:
How he kept me from getting off a train.
How he calls me (almost) every day.
How cool he was when he was young.
In fact, my dad and my mom are weaved into practically every story I write. They are me. And to prove this point, Dad will appreciate this...
This morning in the car, I felt like I was talking to myself. I would comment on something... traffic, trees, dog in the road... didn't matter what it was, I got zero responses. So I sighed heavily and said,
"Self, how are you doing today?"
"Not too bad, Self. You got anything planned?"
"Just the usual stuff, Self. Running kids around."
This went on for a good five minutes. I still heard no commentary from the peanut gallery (although I do think I caught a certain female rolling her eyes). Oh well. As I've heard it said many times before, Whatever. I was entertaining myself and acting just like my dad. I think when I pick them up today I'll start singing about toilet paper.
Happy (Early) Birthday, Dad.
When I grow up, I wanna be just like you.
1 comment:
When I'm getting no response, I sometimes say, "Hello, walls." Like the old country song.
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