so my sister totally screwed me over this year as far as father's day gifts go, what with giving Dad a GRANDSON and all. (hey Dad, i know you have a new grandson and all and yes, his hands ARE quite big, uh huh i'm sure he COULD be a quarterback-- oh? or pitcher? yes, yes, a pitcher or right, yep even a pianist but um, what do you think of your new tie?)
and the thing is, it's not like i've been the easiest daughter to raise.
not that i was a bad kid or anything like that. no, see, i was difficult in other ways.
in particular, you know that yippity-yap thing? um, this is not new. i sort of developed a penchant for running off at the mouth early. like as soon as i could speak. (we have audio tapes confirming this and let me tell you, i would not want to have to have raised me.)
so my poor father has had to listen to me tell him everything he is doing or has done or will do wrong for a good 29 years now.
which is why i am taking this opportunity to highlight The One time my obnoxiously opinionated self turned out to actually benefit my dad:
after my mother passed away my dad eventually decided he was ready to begin dating. and my sisters and i understood.
in specific, it was a little harder for us to agree with his dating choices.
for example, the first woman Dad decided was well-suited for him was an old friend of his from high school. that was a fun phone conversation.
Dad: she's perfect for me.
me: really? that's...great.
Dad: well, you know, we have so much in common. we grew up together!
me: does she still live in connecticut?
Dad: no, not anymore. that is a bit of a problem.
me: oh? where does she live?
[note: my father lives in new hampshire.]
Dad: but we can work that out.
right. Dad went on to explain that she is also a "health nut" who "doesn't drink" and believes in "spiritual healing." and i was trying to not be my usual sarcastic, snarky self, but couldn't help but point out that my father's diet consists mainly of cheeseburgers and bourbon and also he is not so much um, "spiritual." but he (understandably) didn't want to hear it.
and (also understandably), that relationship did not so much um, "work out."
then he put an ad up on Yahoo! personals.
which is when i had to make a deal with myself to shut my smartass, sarcastic, and opinionated self up and try and be supportive of my dad. and as he'd tell me about his dates, i was pretty darned good about not being obnoxious.
however, when "no, she doesn't really read...is a little bit younger than me...and has tattoos" came into play, i decided i had to do something.
and so rather than simply explain to Dad why he was wrong (see? i'm maturing) , i decided to just prove it (okay i'm totally not).
and i went online myself. (we know i have experience with this.) i started looking for someone i thought would be a good match. i perused for hours, and then found the woman who made the most sense to me. a woman who seemed cute and funny and smart.
and i emailed her, explaining who i was and why i was contacting her, and to please find it amusing and charming instead of weird and creepy.
she replied. she said that she thought it was sweet. and sure, i could give my dad her email address.
and then i had to call my dad and relay this to him.
me: hey, Dad.
me: um, so i know you are um, sort of seeing someone...
Dad, warily: yeah?
me: but i thought it might be sort of uh, fun, to ah, go online and see what kinds of women were using the personals i used to use. 'cuz you know, they ask about books and stuff like that.
Dad: uh huh...?
me: and i um, well there is this one woman whose ad i kinda liked.
me: don't be mad.
Dad: what did you do?
me: i um, well...i sort of emailed her.
Dad: what did you say?
me: i just said lots of good things about you and that i was contacting her without you knowing about it because i liked her ad.
i did not add to the email the fact that i thought my father was hopeless in finding someone he was compatible with and that i clearly thought i knew better.
me: well, she emailed me back and said she thought that was sweet. and that she has kids my age. and that you should email her.
[silence. and then laughter.]
Dad: what's her email address?
so because my dad is brave and has a good sense of humor and probably didn't want to suffer the wrath of me hounding him (did you email her yet? did you email her yet? why haven't you emailed her yet?), he emailed her.
and now, wouldn't it be cool if i could say that then they met and dated and it all worked out and that they lived happily ever after?
well i can.
'cuz they are engaged.
[so okay, my opinions aren't always nice or kind or warranted or sought or good. but at least once my of-course-i-know-better obnoxious self wasn't entirely misguided. and right, sure, my story doesn't really have anything to do with father's day, but whatever. i'm competing with a GRANDSON fer crissakes...]