Yesterday was my dad’s 71st birthday. Although that sounds really old when I say it, he doesn’t look like he should be in his seventies, nor does he particularly act like it. In fact, just earlier this week he engaged in a rather physical battle with a skunk—and won.
Which leads me to one thing I love about my dad—his relationship with my boys. Yesterday two of the boys and I decided to be spontaneous and drive an hour south to spend the evening with him and my mom. When we got to their house, Boy #3 proceeded to ask Dad about what happened to the skunk. Immediately my mind was filled with certain preschool-friendly replies, such as “Oh, it went back to its home” or “It wandered happily back into the wilderness.” But Dad? Nope. He tells it like it is no matter the age of the kid he’s talking to, no matter the topic. His reply? “It’s dead. I killed it.” Boy #3, now more curious than upset (thankfully), asked “How?” So Grandpa proceeded to tell Boy #3 how he bludgeoned the pesky skunk (who wouldn’t leave the garage and sprayed the dog) with a garden hoe.
This is what the boys have come to expect from Grandpa Bub (as they call him)—crudeness, honesty, and a hint of immaturity. Needless to say, they can’t get enough.
Grandpa Bub is the one who belches at the dinner table, then laughs unapologetically as the boys giggle. He’s the one who lets a big fart rip and then asks, “Was that an elephant?” (And of course, then laughs. Again, with pride.)
Grandpa likes to ask things like, “Do your boogers taste like grape jelly?”
Maybe it’s because he never had sons. Maybe having three daughters and a wife caused him to stifle his uncouth behavior for too many years.
. . . Or, maybe not.
You see, he’s always been this way. Farting, burping, and teasing have been his instruments of affection since I was young. It’s just that now, he’s finally found an appreciative audience.
I had to include this picture of my dad in the post because 1) I love seeing pictures of my parents when they were my age or younger, and 2) the irony of it cracks me up. They live a mile from a casino and the only reason they ever go there is to eat the buffet or occasionally catch a show. Parting with his money is definitely not his idea of entertainment.
So Happy Birthday, Dad! Thanks for giving us years of entertainment!