Toot!

I'm sitting at the kitchen counter, reading the morning newspaper and enjoying a nice, hot cup of coffee. Gourmet coffee. Not that I'm being snooty, but being a man of few bad habits--you won't find me making a road trip to the Colorado Rocky Mountain high--I figure I can splurge on gourmet coffee.
     This morning, the coffee's especially good. I added a cinnamon stick to the coffee grounds before I brewed it. Cinnamon is good for diabetes. It helps regulate your blood sugar. Personally, I don't have diabetes, but I thought you might like to know.
     In the mornings, while I'm savoring my brew, I also like to leisurely read the newspaper. But what I like doesn't seem to matter much these days. You see, when my Dad gets up and makes his way from his house into my house, he, too, likes to leisurely read the morning paper. If he can't, because--oh, say--his son happens to be enjoying it at that moment, he gets antsy. He starts exhaling loudly, making sure I can hear him, and he starts saying, "Oh, my. Oh, my. Oh, my."
     He walks around, looking here and there for nothing in particular, and occasionally he'll glance in my direction to see if I'm still reading the paper.
     Yep, I am.
     Normally, when he walks into our house, he'll just walk into the great room and plop himself into his--my--favorite chair and wait for my wife to turn on the TV for him. But when he's waiting for the newspaper, he can't sit. He shuffles this way and that, walks back and forth, and goes here and there.
     Most days, I just put the newspaper back together (In order. It has to be in order.) and leave it on the counter for him. Then I go lift weights. I'd rather read the paper, but life, as usual, always has other plans for me.
     Oh, sure, I could be a jerk and finish reading the newspaper, but that would mean that I'd have to finish reading it while my Dad's giving me the stink eye with his eyes all bugging out.
     He won't ask for it, and he won't just reach over and grab the sections I'm done with--I'm usually done with the front page and the sports section by this time. No, he wants the whole thing.
     Hey, speak of the devil. Here he comes now. He walks pass me and greets me in his own inimitable way.
     Toot!
     You'd think in a house this big he could find another place to toot.
 
 

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