11 03 pm pdt [ directness ]
Today is my dad's birthday. My current name for my dad
is Pappy Smurf, which my
sister has since taken to calling him. [My current nickname for my
mum is Linty G, which is a long story...]
I got my dad several garden related gifts, the prize of
which is a large Mr. Lincoln rose bush. I think Mr. Lincoln roses are the
most superior for their rich scent and large deep red blooms.
My father and I agreed to have dinner together. We
left for dinner at 8 and didn't return home until 10 30. The conversation
was certainly flowing. The most noteworthy conversation occurred when we
were discussing deposition.
"Obviously, if someone asked you about your
relationship with Matthew for
long enough, you would reach the point where there was some topic you
weren't comfortable talking about."
I interrupted. "You've chosen a bad example, because
there's nothing I'm unwilling to talk about."
"Really?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Really. Anything that someone has the guts to ask I
have the guts to answer." How could my dad not know this about me after
all this time. When had I reached this level of directness?
My dad lit up, struck by a great idea. "What do you
like least about me?"
I was stumped for a full minute, trying to recall what
I complained about or the last fight we had. Finally I remembered what
irked me. "Your nagging me about getting a 9-5 office job."
