Me: Why? Are you sick? Did something happen at work today? Was someone shot?!
Him: Because it needs to get done. And no. No. You know, you look like a normal person...
Later...
H: Whenever you get a chance, I need your parents' US address and phone number.
I told him the street address but not the zip code...
H: I sort of need the zip as well.
M: Geesh. I always have to look it up. It's not like I actually write them letters.
Later...
H: Don't worry...I looked up the zip and I found their phone number. Now I just need their birthdays.
M: Oh my LORD. I'm trying to raise your children here! What else do you want from me?!
H: Um...just their birthdays.
I dug out my Official Birthday List and read off their full names and birthdays.
H: And the years?
M: Gah! Details. One of them was born in '45? But I don't remember which one. How old do you have to be to start Medicare? 64? 65?
H: I think it's 65.
M: Ok. So I made the Medicare cake for my dad...what? Two years ago? So whichever age you have to be to start that, subtract that from now...minus (or plus?) the two years and then figure out which one was born in '45 because there's two years between them.
H: Seriously. You really do look normal...for someone who is obviously insane.
M: What? You're the one making feel like a compete failure of a daughter!
Years ago my mom put together these amazing family memory books for my sister and I. And it was almost like she knew that one day I'd need to know this information. I pulled my book down and next to the picture of her with her seven siblings was a list with all of their birthdays--including years. Come to find out...neither of my parents were born in 1945. Apparently my brain just likes to throw out random numbers.
Once we got the birthdays sorted out he double checked the spelling of my mom's name.
H: Two L's?
M: Yep.
H: And it's e-y?
M: No. It's a-y.
H: Wait. Kyleigh's middle name is spelled e-y and they're the same.
M: No. Your daughter's is a-y as well. And my mom always thought her's was e-y until some official document showed up somewhere in someone's possession that had it spelled a-y.
Crickets...
M: Soooo all this time you've been spelling your child's name--the child who loves you more than life itself and all of her princess movies--wrong?! And you call yourself a Daddy.
H: Don't you have important child raising things to do?
M: Nope, they're fine. I'm just going to stand here for a moment and bask in the beauty that is you, for just this once, being Wrong.
**Edited**
It has been brought to my attention that He had his daughter's name spelled correctly on his own Important Information list. So...he wasn't wrong after all. Joy and Elation are such fleeting, fickle emotions.
3 comments:
Biteth me!
Love ya!
Fab story!
Umm...you're wrong. Daddy was born in '45 and there's only one year between them. Our grandmothers were, however, each 2 years older than our grandfathers.
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