My family came up Sunday to do a furniture swap of sorts with me, and I saw my dad’s chin for the first time in my whole life. As long as I have been in this world, he’s sported a full beard. Not sure why he decided to shave it in that spot, but he’s already heard that he looks like Paul Sr.
Even wackier — this is the first time since my parents have been together (for 32-odd years, mind you) that my mother has seen my dad’s chin.
He sure does look a lot more like my aunt and my grandfather under all that hair.
My mom just sent me pretty much the best e-mail in the history of e-mails from mothers:
I am in Crazyland! Now all my new emails are loading, and each one of them are loading ten times apiemce. OMG I am going to commit hyperlink-acide. Goodbye.
xoxo with pc passion preferring pleasure but perennially pissed! Please forego the lectures on the superiority of Macs! lol
Keep in mind that my mom’s e-mails get to me in blue italics, which adds the perfect dash of momliness.
I have become one of those kids who can’t stop telling their parents to junk the 2001 Dell and just get a little MacBook. And I will continue to be one of those kids until my parents buy a huge 24-inch iMac.
A few weeks ago, my dad’s heart doctor suspected that Dad had had a heart attack some time recently. So he sent him to Memphis for a battery of tests. I hoofed it out east yesterday to sit with my parents in the waiting room in between the tests. The people at the Stern Cardio clinic were ridiculously nice to us. I watched my dad come and go from the waiting room while wearing a fetching seersucker robe. His spirits were high even though he had just come off his midnight shift at the paper mill and hadn’t eaten in many many many hours at the request of the clinic.
In this picture, it looks like maybe he’s going to smooch my mom, but in fact he is leaning in and making rabbit noises to make fun of her for losing a tooth right up front, which she is so embarrassed about and can’t get fixed until next week (stupid Good Friday). Mom showed me the little ring box she’s carting around with her that contains the tooth. And the superglue she attempted to use in desperation to get the tooth to stick.
We sat in that waiting room, cracking up at mom’s whistling snaggletooth (“I look like a real Hardin Countian now!” she said) and probably making everyone around us very uncomfortable. It was hilarious.
And the best part? Dad got a clean bill of health and checked out just fine. No heart attack after all. He just has to lose 30 pounds.
That sound you hear is a million pounds of worry lifting all around me.