Here is the *promised* and now belated Thanksgiving story. Enjoy.
This story requires some background information. Something constant that I remember from my childhood was my dad's love of golf. He would often practice his golf swing when he was just standing around talking. It may have had something to do with there being a shocking amount of cut wooden dowels throughout the house. This might sound like something I'm making up for the sake of the story, but no. I guess they were used for holding the windows open.
So my dad would happen upon a dowel from time to time and then hold it like a golf club and "practice" his swing.
Not a golf club. |
Okay, you get the idea. |
I was so used to it and got to the point where I no longer questioned it. But apparently my mom was far less observant than I.
It was like any other Thanksgiving with my parents and our family friends. We had finished dinner at the most crowded table ever and myself and the rest of the "grown ups" were in the living room chatting. Though I was more staring off into space than actually participating in the conversation.
Hmm that book looks familiar. |
Anyway. I guess there had been some drinking and my dad, true to form, decided to practice his swing. The thing with the dowels had died off years ago when most of the windows had been fixed. But I still recognized the familiar pantomimed golf club and thought nothing of it.
My mom, however... Remember, I mentioned the drinking. She was clearly only half paying attention and just saw how he was standing and the positioning of his hands, "setting up his shot," I know that I got my lack-of-verbal-filter from my mom, because instead of thinking about it first she blurts out...
I just sat there mortified and scarred for life because I could never unhear those words from my mom's mouth.
I pretty much blacked out the subsequent conversation after that moment, but after my dad stared at her in disbelief and explained to her what he was actually pantomiming, I'm sure my mom thought the whole thing was hilarious.
Oh my God. My dad does the practice golf swing ALL the time. I hope to God I forget about this story before he does it next or I'm pretty sure I'll run screaming from the room...
ReplyDeleteIs your dad's name really Rufus? If so, your dad's name is kind of awesome, sincerely. I miss old names like that.
ReplyDelete@Kirsti: Me too... me too :P
ReplyDelete@Liddy: My dad's nickname really is Rufus. It is what my mom and his friends call him.
Bwahaha! That's too hilarious! :D
ReplyDeleteLOL. Too funny. Good thing your family (and you) have a good sense of humor!
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh that is hilarious!!! hehe I would've been like, I didn't just hear mum say that lol thanks for sharing! :)
ReplyDelete