He Doesn’t Have Any Rules to Live By

Every so often, my dad and I take a trip together. But sometimes, he just comes down to stay with me for the weekend. We sit and talk—he talks mostly. We go out to eat—he loves the Thai place. He uses my internet while I go to the gym. And he says funny shit I jot down.

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He showers, shaves, and changes into a clean shirt before breakfast.

Dad: How do I look?
Me: Good.
Dad: Not radiant?

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Dad, who loathes all organized sports that are not Formula 1 racing, begrudgingly agrees to accompany me to a Durham Bulls game, upon the promise of hot dogs and people watching.

Dad, re the mascot Wool E. Bull, who is dancing on the field: Do you suppose he just has to get really high before he goes out and does that?

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Dad: I’m scared of going to the doctor next week.
Me: The ear doctor?
Dad: Yeah.
Me: You’re scared of going to the ear doctor. Why?
Dad: What if he looks in there and says, “That’s the biggest ear cancer I’ve ever seen!”?

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Violet’s asleep on the doormat. Her feet start paddling.

Me: Aw, look at that. She’s having a dream.
Dad: She’s running away from the veterinarian.

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I back out of the driveway.

Dad: You’re a carbon copy of your mother. She doesn’t strap in until she’s moving forward either.
Me: You don’t buckle your seat belt until I yell at you about it!
Dad: BUT I HAVE NO RULES TO LIVE BY!

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Dad, to the dogs: You are satisfied with dog biscuits. I, however, would not be satisfied with dog biscuits. So, you get the dog biscuits and I get the chocolate.

(a little later) You may, if you like, snuggle with my armpit. You may not have my chocolate.

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Dad: I do one thing at a time. So I can worry enough about it.

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Dad, reading from the newspaper: “Ospreys are in full-on courtship.” Full-on courtship?! We know what that means—big bird on top.

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Dad, dropping then picking up a bottle of meds, to Redford: No! You could swallow a handful of my nitro glycerine pills and BLOW UP. If somebody shakes you.

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Dad, when I arrive home later than expected: I thought you might have been in a crash.
Me: Sorry, I just got caught up at the gym.
Dad: That was my second thesis.

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Dad, gesturing at my neighbor’s house: You ever see any movement around that place?
Me: Not much.
Dad: Think they just sit around and get stoned all the time?
Me: Yeah, maybe.
Dad: …Sounds kinda nice.

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