Dad-isms: July 9, 2010

I had an idea for a feature I will call "Dad-isms". My Dad is hilarious. (I had to get it from somewhere) He is also quite deaf and refuses to wear hearing aids (his passive-agressive way of getting on my mother's nerves while simultaneously having an excuse to not listen to her) so he often mis-hears things, and hilarity ensues.

Since his strokes he doesn't speak as much, which is tragic because it deprives the world of his wit. So I am taking it upon myself to share his bon mots. Here are some recent and no-so-recent highlights:

It was No. 2's 15th birthday and she had a few friends at the house for cake, ice cream, and a sleepover. The whole fam was gathered in the kitchen, the candles were lit, the singing began, and my mom totally disappeared.

Husband: Where did your mom go?

Dad: The dog is in the bathroom chewing on a bone.


One of Dad's most prized possessions is a Star Trek glass with Uhura on it. He refers to it as his "Foxy Chick"

Dad: Where's my Foxy Chick?

No. 2: Isn't Grandma your foxy chick?

Dad: Hell, no. She's no one's foxy chick.


I was rooting through the refrigerator looking for lunch...

Me: Dad, do we have any lunch meat other than bologna?

Dad: I don't know where No. 1 is, I haven't seen her yet.

Me, louder: Dad, I'm asking you about lunchmeat here.

Dad, with a shrug: Bummer. (walks back to his computer to watch Pigeon:Impossible on YouTube for the millionth time)



My children and husband were trading blonde jokes at the dinner table

No. 3: How do you get a blonde to commit suicide? (dramatic pause) You give her a gun and tell her its a hair dryer!

Dad: What does the hair dryer do? Warm up the gum so you can chew it again?


My sister-in-law and I are discussing the rehearsal schedule for a production of Ruddigore we are starring in. OK, a production of Ruddigore SHE is starring in...

Me: Who has to be at rehearsal tonight?

Rebecca: Bridesmaids and Bucks and Blades.

Dad, perking up: Did you say something about boobs and babes?