Friday, July 28, 2006

old people gone wild

My dad came to visit me for 2 nights.


that's not entirely true. He needed a FREE place to stay ON HIS WAY elsewhere. It's fascinating to see. I haven't been under the same roof with my dad, and only my dad, for two whole days and nights since...since...I can't even remember. I always THOUGHT he was a nice clean old man, polite, decent. But I realize now that any of THAT was clearly the way of his wife. I got to see, clear as day, where my white trash roots came from. Not just white trash, but polish trash. (the mexican crazy lazy manic bipolar was from mom)(good combo guys, GOOD COMBO) (thank GOD they're sterile now)

Anyhow, as I was saying. FIrst off, he turned his nose up at my "expired" half/n/half which smelled just fine, thank you very much. And were you thinking he needed the h/h for his coffee? no no silly, his CEREAL. Because I only had skim milk (unacceptable) so he poured the rotten h/h in to mix things up a bit. to polish people this makes perfect sense.. a little skim, a little h/h and voila! Whole milk!

Moving right along, after breakfast he just left the dishes in the sink. no rinse. no wash. then this AM he doesn't get a NEW bowl and coffee cup, he just runs the old nasty ones uner the tap. no soap. (it gets better, keep reading) I just watched with fascination. he then goes to the coffee maker, which has the brewed coffee from YESTERDAY still in it, and proceeds to pour it in his rinsed mug. At this point I intervene.


him: (matter of fact) well, don't you have a microwave?

"YAH BUT WHY? that coffee is from YESTERDAY. It wasn't REFRIGERATED. It's probably moldy.!"

him: Moldy! ha! where's your microwave? this coffee is perfectly fine. where's the expired half n half?

"BUT that's gross!" and then I notice the bowl and spoon "hey! I HAVE lots of bowls dad. and spoons! Those aren't even washed!"

him: oh well, I rinsed them. they're just fine.

end scene.

Also he had brought this little water bottle with him. the kind from 7/11. and he kept refilling it and putting it in the fridge. I kept asking if he wanted a NEW bottle, a bigger and better and fresher bottle because I AM sure he had that bottle the whole way from San Fran.

I wish I could claim I was adopted. But as I watched I just PRAYED that I would remember this when I'm old. Because otherwise I'm on the same path.


Granny~Van said...

OMG! YOUR DAD! LOL!!!! I love his recipe for milk. You need to write a treatment up for an old person's cooking show. LOL! You can even give it a Poli-Mex flair!! Hahahaa! What on earth could be better? It could be a hip fusion of sorts...get out the cranberry juice, half-n-half and chorizo!! You could fully wear a sombrero and one of those gorgeous traditional Polish getups! Yeah girl, I see it! You could be (now roll your r's with me...)Krrristeeenaaa Maria Kaminski.

Joe said...

i have to say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. in your case, the apple seems to have fallen squarely between a psycho/manic mexican tree and a rude/curmudgeonly polish tree.

and you wonder why we love you!

peewee said...