Dad, discussing where we should stop for a bathroom break: There’s a Wal-mart up here, but Wal-mart’s shittoirs are always jammed with people.
**********
Dad: …That story evoked no mirth from you whatsoever.
[No, but that phrase did.]
**********
Dad: (battling with the seat belt) GODDAMMIT.
Me: No, don’t yank on it, Dad. You’re making it do the opposite of what you want it to do.
Dad: (in a sing-song tone) But I get very angry.
**********
It’s 81 degrees and sunny.
Dad: Fucking winter again.
Me: It’s fall!
Dad: But it’s coming.
Me: Not right now. It’s Indian summer. Gorgeous. Enjoy it!
Dad: Yeah, my ass hurts.
**********
Dad: Oh my ass.
Me: I’m trying to find a gas station on this side of the road so we can get out and stretch.
Dad: That’s nice. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying, “Oh my ass.”
**********
Dad, when we stopped at a truck stop in southern Virginia that he’d never been to: Discovery! I feel like Vasco de Gama!
**********
Dad: (to Violet, in the other room) I don’t even need food right now… I need purpose.
**********
Dad: Wait a minute. I need to take my Prilosec. Yoohoooooooooo, Prilosec!
**********
Dad, on our walk: The best thing I could do would be to lie down. In the back of an ambulance.