My Dad LOVES going shopping.
Well, let me rephrase that: My Dad loves going shopping to COSTCO.
Well, that's not quite right, either: My Dad loves going shopping to Costco... with my wife. My Dad loves going shopping to Costco with my wife because she doesn't have the heart to tell him no.
That nasty bit of parent-parenting, she leaves for me.
That nasty bit of parent-parenting, she leaves for me.
Many a time we've been at Costco, he'll pick up an item, look at it, look at me, and put it back down. With my wife, he'll pick up an item like gourmet cheeses (which his digestive system doesn't need, if you've read my last two stories), and just plop them into the grocery cart, expecting the Wallet Fairy to pay for it, I guess. My wife won't say a thing.
If I happen to catch him doing this, sometimes I'll just take the item out when he's not looking, put it back, and when we're back home, if he notices that his item didn't make the trip home, he won't say a thing and I won't say a thing.
Sometimes, when I see him looking at something, I'll try to talk him out of it.
Once, when I saw him pick up some Rogaine, I asked him, "Thinking about getting some, Dad?"
"Aw, no, no," he said, but he didn't put it down. Instead, I saw his beady little eyes quickly scan around for my wife and/or her cart.
"I hear it makes your penis shrink," I told him. I wasn't saying it was true, I'm just saying that's what I heard. Anything that makes your hair grow, at the expense of the size of your tallywhacker, kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think? If you want a full head of hair to look attractive, but it affects just what it is you want to be attractive for, then what's the point? Anyway...
My Dad quickly put the Rogaine back. And briskly rubbed his hands together for good measure, trying to get any Rogaine residue off of his hands.
You might think that's mean, and, if it were somebody else I was hearing this about, I might, too. But my pantry and my refrigerator is only so big. How many gourmet cheeses can it hold, before there's no room for the necessities like beer and chips?
But I don't always go with my wife to Costco, so that's how we end up with Grecian Formula or Testosterone Boosters. My Dad's 94-years-old. My Mom's been dead for quite a few years now. I've never--NEVER--seen him show any interest in another woman. Oh, sure, he likes to look at the eye candy (we all do), but if it came down to a choice between him watching baseball at home or going out on a date... he'd choose the baseball. And farting.
So why's he so interested in the color of his hair or the level of his testostoroni--the real San Franciscan treat--? And just what do I do with all that junk he has us buy that he never uses?
I'm glad you asked, my friend. Close your judgemental door, and open your wallets, because I have all those items...
FOR SALE
1) Pair of sweats.
Never worn. Size small. He refuses to wear them because my wife intitially bought them for herself, gave them to my Dad when he saw and liked them, but then made the mistake of telling him they were for her. I guess he's afraid that wearing them would lower his testosterone levels even further.
2) A five pound pumpkin pie.
It's from Costco, so you know it's good, but there's just so much of it. My Dad insisted we buy it for the holidays, but then had no interest in eating any of it once my money had been spent.
3) 118 Ice cream creme puffs.
The box came with 120 crème puff balls. My Dad said he LOVES crème puff balls, "I can eat the whole box," he insisted, so my wife bought them for him. He ate TWO. They've been in my freezer ever since.
4) Pair of uni-sex sweat suit.
They've been worn a few times in Yosemite. These he's stopped wearing because he he's not sure what the term "uni-sex" means. My wife's tried explaining it to him, but he refuses to understand. Or pretends not to. Either way, he won't wear them.
5) New picture frame with a picture of his grand-daughter.
It was a Christmas present from his other son, but since my brother's never invited my Dad over his home for a few days to visit, I don't think my Dad knows who the young white female is.
6) Pair of shoe laces. Cost $9.00. Will sell for $2.00.
When my kids were kids, their shoelaces were ALWAYS coming untied. I don't know what it is about toddlers and their shoelaces, they never stay tied. My Dad is like a 94-year-old toddler.
7) TV. Like new!
This one cost me too much money for me to make a joke about.
8) New Running shoes.
No matter what we buy my Dad, they always hurt his feet. My oldest daughter put it best: "It's not the shoes, it's his feet. He has 94-year-old feet."
9) Gourmet cheese.
It's from Costco, so you know it's good. It cost $15 for 10 milligrams. I'll sell it to you for $5. Wait... it's been in my refrigerator for awhile. On second thought, I'll pay you $5 to take it away.
Along with all the other crap we've bought him. From Costco...
...so you know it's good.
Raising My Father
RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com
jimduchene.BlogSpot.com Fifty Shades of Funny
@JimDuchene
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