Remember the brother I told you about? The one who buys expensive gifts, but gets them at a really good price?
Well, he and his family came by on New Year's Eve to finally celebrate Christmas with us. He was going to wait until after the holidays to visit, but I made the mistake of saying "free meal," and before I knew it he was at my door. I think this is the fourth Christmas gathering we've celebrated this year.
Anyway, he gave our Dad a single--as in one--shirt for Christmas as a gift from him and his family. He must have still had some stashed away from the fire sale at Macy's where he bought a dozen expensive name-brand shirts for the price of a six-pack.
"I wanted to buy Dad more than one shirt," his wife told my wife, "but he told me, 'What for? Dad doesn't go anyplace.' "
And while that's true, he could at least have splurged for some Joint Juice. I hear they sell them for a good price if you buy them at Costco by the case.
After my brother almost ate us out of house and home, he left. Unfortunately, he took his family with him.
"Come back when you can't stay so long," I told him. To his family, I said, "But you guys can stay as looong as you like."
His kids laughed at my joke.
"Yeah, Dad," his twelve-year-old daughter with the occasional sharp sense of humor repeated, "come back when you can't stay so long."
It was kind of late when they left, and my Dad was pretty tired.
"I'm going to bed," he told no one in particular, gathered his gifts, and then looked at my wife with a semi-confused look on his face. You would have thought he was trying to sign up for ObamaCare.
"Where's my other t-shirt?" he asked her, looking around.
"What?" my wife asked him, not really understanding.
Heck, I was watching the whole thing, and I didn't understand what my Dad was talking about. But then, I don't understand what he's talking about half the time anyway.
"Where's my other shirt?" my Dad repeated.
My wife looked at me, then she looked back at my Dad--who was pointedly looking around the floor for his phantom 2nd shirt--then she looked back at me, mouthed the words, "What shirt?"--I shrugged, "I don't know."--and then she looked back at my Dad.
Well, he and his family came by on New Year's Eve to finally celebrate Christmas with us. He was going to wait until after the holidays to visit, but I made the mistake of saying "free meal," and before I knew it he was at my door. I think this is the fourth Christmas gathering we've celebrated this year.
Anyway, he gave our Dad a single--as in one--shirt for Christmas as a gift from him and his family. He must have still had some stashed away from the fire sale at Macy's where he bought a dozen expensive name-brand shirts for the price of a six-pack.
"I wanted to buy Dad more than one shirt," his wife told my wife, "but he told me, 'What for? Dad doesn't go anyplace.' "
And while that's true, he could at least have splurged for some Joint Juice. I hear they sell them for a good price if you buy them at Costco by the case.
After my brother almost ate us out of house and home, he left. Unfortunately, he took his family with him.
"Come back when you can't stay so long," I told him. To his family, I said, "But you guys can stay as looong as you like."
His kids laughed at my joke.
"Yeah, Dad," his twelve-year-old daughter with the occasional sharp sense of humor repeated, "come back when you can't stay so long."
It was kind of late when they left, and my Dad was pretty tired.
"I'm going to bed," he told no one in particular, gathered his gifts, and then looked at my wife with a semi-confused look on his face. You would have thought he was trying to sign up for ObamaCare.
"Where's my other t-shirt?" he asked her, looking around.
"What?" my wife asked him, not really understanding.
Heck, I was watching the whole thing, and I didn't understand what my Dad was talking about. But then, I don't understand what he's talking about half the time anyway.
"Where's my other shirt?" my Dad repeated.
My wife looked at me, then she looked back at my Dad--who was pointedly looking around the floor for his phantom 2nd shirt--then she looked back at me, mouthed the words, "What shirt?"--I shrugged, "I don't know."--and then she looked back at my Dad.
"You only got one shirt," she said, breaking the bad news to him.
"No, I got two," he said. "They gave me two."
"I'm sure it was one, Dad."
"No, it was two."
"I'm sure it was one, Dad."
"No, it was two."
"They gave you one shirt and a picture of your granddaughter," she said, trying to make the gift of one shirt seem grander than it was.
"No, I'm TELLING you" my Dad said, telling us, "I got TWO shirts. Where's the other one?"
He was inching toward crossing the line of actually accusing us of stealing his shirt.
He was inching toward crossing the line of actually accusing us of stealing his shirt.
'I don't know, Dad," my wife said, slightly changing her tactics. "I only saw them give you the one shirt."
She checks all the bags, moves around the wrapping paper and tissue inside the black trash bag we threw them away in, and even showed my Dad the empty box the single shirt came it.
"This is the box your gift came in and it only had one shirt."
"No," my Dad continued to insist, despite the mounting evidence, "there were two shirts." He sighed. "Well, maybe, he took it back."
"I bet you're right, Dad," I saw my opportunity and finally chimed in. "I bet he took it back."
If there's one thing brothers enjoy doing, it's getting each other in trouble... so I did. Just like old times.
"I bet you're right, Dad," I saw my opportunity and finally chimed in. "I bet he took it back."
If there's one thing brothers enjoy doing, it's getting each other in trouble... so I did. Just like old times.
Well, my wife probably thought, it's time for me to leave. So she did.
Ten minutes later I was upstairs and she asked me what happened.
I told her, "Well, I'd rather he think my brother took the shirt back than for him to blame us, so I just continued to agree with him."
She assured me that he only got one shirt and a picture, in a frame, of his granddaughter.
I told her, "I know, babe. I know."
I don't know why she was explaining this to me, since I was there, but more than that, what would she want with one of my Dad's shirts? What's next, she'll be wearing his black socks with her athletic shoes?
She laughed when I told her that when my Dad was heading out the door to his little father-in-law house, I caught up with him in the kitchen and handed him the framed picture of his granddaughter.
"What's this?" my Dad asked me.
"It's the picture they gave you," I answered, as if his question needed any answering at all. "Of your granddaughter."
My Dad didn't say anything. He just kept looking at the framed picture in my hand.
"This looks like a pretty nice frame," I told him, trying to be nice. I guess it worked--kind of--because he finally reached out and took it from my hand.
"I don't have room for that picture," he said, placed it on the kitchen counter, and walked out of our house and into his.
She assured me that he only got one shirt and a picture, in a frame, of his granddaughter.
I told her, "I know, babe. I know."
I don't know why she was explaining this to me, since I was there, but more than that, what would she want with one of my Dad's shirts? What's next, she'll be wearing his black socks with her athletic shoes?
She laughed when I told her that when my Dad was heading out the door to his little father-in-law house, I caught up with him in the kitchen and handed him the framed picture of his granddaughter.
"What's this?" my Dad asked me.
"It's the picture they gave you," I answered, as if his question needed any answering at all. "Of your granddaughter."
My Dad didn't say anything. He just kept looking at the framed picture in my hand.
"This looks like a pretty nice frame," I told him, trying to be nice. I guess it worked--kind of--because he finally reached out and took it from my hand.
"I don't have room for that picture," he said, placed it on the kitchen counter, and walked out of our house and into his.
Raising My Father
RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com
jimduchene.BlogSpot.com Fifty Shades of Funny
@JimDuchene
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