Today my father found out I have a water floss machine.
I love that floss machine. It's my favorite toy. He heard me using it and asked my wife what I was doing.
"What's your husband doing in the bathroom?"
"I don't know, Dad. Why do you ask?"
"Because I hear something vibrating."
I don't think the water floss machine is especially loud, but my father's hearing is selective. One moment he can't hear me when I'm standing right in front of him, and the next he's like Superman and can hear a fly farting halfway around the world. He either thought I was in the bathroom having a good time or that his hearing aid was acting up again.
My wife, on the other hand, knew I was flossing my teeth with my new state-of-the-art contraption and asked my father if he wanted to try it.
"Try it? Hmm... do I want to try it? What's he doing in there again?"
"He's flossing his teeth with his new toy."
"I hear something vibrating. What kind of a toy is it?"
I don't know what my father was implying, but I don't think the machine makes a vibrating noise. In fact, I don't think whatever noise it does make can even be heard on the other side of the bathroom door, but what it comes down to is this: my father knows I'm in there doing something, and he wants to know what it is.
"It's a water floss, Dad," she tells him. "It's pretty cool."
"I don't like cold water."
"No, Dad, it's a water floss."
"Didn't you say it was cool?"
"Yes."
"Well, I don't like cold water."
Sometimes, when you talk with my father, you have to take the bull by the horns from the end of the bull that doesn't have horns.
"Okay, Dad. We'll heat up the water."
"Good, because I don't like cold water."
"So, do you want to try the water floss?"
"It's a water floss?"
"Yes."
"You floss with water."
"That's right."
"Do I want to try it?"
"Yes."
"You're asking me if I want to try it?"
"That's right."
"You're asking me if I want to floss with water?"
"Yes, I am."
I'm sure my wife only gave me the highlights of her conversation with my Dad, but even the highlights were putting me to sleep. If this conversation was a movie, it would be a foreign film.
I wasn't too keen on my father trying my water floss, because you know what it means if he tries it. It means I'll never see it again. It will go from being my water floss machine to being his water floss machine. Even if he did give it back, I would never use it. I wouldn't care to put anything near my mouth that's been near his mouth.
I'm just funny that way.
But getting it back is nothing I have to worry about, because I know that my father likes toys, too. If he uses this water floss once, he'll never give it back. He may never use it again, but it will be his. And of all the things he likes, he likes the things that are his the most.
Anyway, when I step out of the bathroom, my wife catches me off-guard and asks me to show my father how to use the machine.
"Show him what machine?" I ask. She doesn't have to tell me, I already know I've lost my favorite toy.
"Your water floss. Your father was asking about it."
"And you told him to bugger off, right?"
She lifts one eyebrow at me, which is a neat trick if you can conquer it.
"Just show him," she tells me.
I only let her think she's the boss because she is.
"How'd you know I had a water floss machine, Dad?" I ask him when the two of us were in the bathroom together (a sentence I never thought I'd have a reason to type).
"I didn't know you had a water floss machine," he clarified. "I just heard something vibrating."
"And what did you think I was doing?"
"I didn't know what you were doing, but I knew you were doing something," he said, using the same kind of logic he used to use when he wanted to punish me for something when I was a teenager.
"Okay, Dad," I tell him, "this is how it works."
I'm trying to show him how the water floss works, but it's like teaching a teenager how to drive. He knew everything. All I hear is "I know that" or "I thought it worked that way."
"Pop," I say, "you blah, blah blah."
"I knew that."
"And then you blah, blah, blah."
"I know that."
"So then you blah, blah, blah."
"I know that, too."
"And that's how it works."
"That's what I thought."
I swear, all he probably heard was the blah, blah, blah.
"Here," I say, and hand it over. It's his problem now. I think I would have had a easier time showing him how to disarm a nuke.
"I know how to do that," he would have told me. "I saw it done in a James Bond movie."
"Octopussy?"
"Goldfinger," he would have corrected me. "You just flip a switch."
That's the great thing about my Dad, he knows everything except how to turn off the lights. He's like my buddy Maloney's son, Boswell. With the right haircut he could pass for Kim Jong Un, and he knows everything about losing weight except how to lose it himself.
Later that day, to show God that I'm a good person and deserve to get into heaven, I made my father a five-star three-slice baloney sandwich with all the trimmings. It wasn't my wife's usual gourmet cooking, but he really liked it.I love that floss machine. It's my favorite toy. He heard me using it and asked my wife what I was doing.
"What's your husband doing in the bathroom?"
"I don't know, Dad. Why do you ask?"
"Because I hear something vibrating."
I don't think the water floss machine is especially loud, but my father's hearing is selective. One moment he can't hear me when I'm standing right in front of him, and the next he's like Superman and can hear a fly farting halfway around the world. He either thought I was in the bathroom having a good time or that his hearing aid was acting up again.
My wife, on the other hand, knew I was flossing my teeth with my new state-of-the-art contraption and asked my father if he wanted to try it.
"Try it? Hmm... do I want to try it? What's he doing in there again?"
"He's flossing his teeth with his new toy."
"I hear something vibrating. What kind of a toy is it?"
I don't know what my father was implying, but I don't think the machine makes a vibrating noise. In fact, I don't think whatever noise it does make can even be heard on the other side of the bathroom door, but what it comes down to is this: my father knows I'm in there doing something, and he wants to know what it is.
"It's a water floss, Dad," she tells him. "It's pretty cool."
"I don't like cold water."
"No, Dad, it's a water floss."
"Didn't you say it was cool?"
"Yes."
"Well, I don't like cold water."
Sometimes, when you talk with my father, you have to take the bull by the horns from the end of the bull that doesn't have horns.
"Okay, Dad. We'll heat up the water."
"Good, because I don't like cold water."
"So, do you want to try the water floss?"
"It's a water floss?"
"Yes."
"You floss with water."
"That's right."
"Do I want to try it?"
"Yes."
"You're asking me if I want to try it?"
"That's right."
"You're asking me if I want to floss with water?"
"Yes, I am."
I'm sure my wife only gave me the highlights of her conversation with my Dad, but even the highlights were putting me to sleep. If this conversation was a movie, it would be a foreign film.
I wasn't too keen on my father trying my water floss, because you know what it means if he tries it. It means I'll never see it again. It will go from being my water floss machine to being his water floss machine. Even if he did give it back, I would never use it. I wouldn't care to put anything near my mouth that's been near his mouth.
I'm just funny that way.
But getting it back is nothing I have to worry about, because I know that my father likes toys, too. If he uses this water floss once, he'll never give it back. He may never use it again, but it will be his. And of all the things he likes, he likes the things that are his the most.
Anyway, when I step out of the bathroom, my wife catches me off-guard and asks me to show my father how to use the machine.
"Show him what machine?" I ask. She doesn't have to tell me, I already know I've lost my favorite toy.
"Your water floss. Your father was asking about it."
"And you told him to bugger off, right?"
She lifts one eyebrow at me, which is a neat trick if you can conquer it.
"Just show him," she tells me.
I only let her think she's the boss because she is.
"How'd you know I had a water floss machine, Dad?" I ask him when the two of us were in the bathroom together (a sentence I never thought I'd have a reason to type).
"I didn't know you had a water floss machine," he clarified. "I just heard something vibrating."
"And what did you think I was doing?"
"I didn't know what you were doing, but I knew you were doing something," he said, using the same kind of logic he used to use when he wanted to punish me for something when I was a teenager.
"Okay, Dad," I tell him, "this is how it works."
I'm trying to show him how the water floss works, but it's like teaching a teenager how to drive. He knew everything. All I hear is "I know that" or "I thought it worked that way."
"Pop," I say, "you blah, blah blah."
"I knew that."
"And then you blah, blah, blah."
"I know that."
"So then you blah, blah, blah."
"I know that, too."
"And that's how it works."
"That's what I thought."
I swear, all he probably heard was the blah, blah, blah.
"Here," I say, and hand it over. It's his problem now. I think I would have had a easier time showing him how to disarm a nuke.
"I know how to do that," he would have told me. "I saw it done in a James Bond movie."
"Octopussy?"
"Goldfinger," he would have corrected me. "You just flip a switch."
That's the great thing about my Dad, he knows everything except how to turn off the lights. He's like my buddy Maloney's son, Boswell. With the right haircut he could pass for Kim Jong Un, and he knows everything about losing weight except how to lose it himself.
Or was very hungry.
I don't know.
What I do know is that I'm too soft-hearted for my own good, even if I do say so myself.
"Are you going to give your new water floss machine a tryout?" I asked him when he was done eating, knowing what the answer would be.
"Later," he said.
Always later.
RaisingMyFather
RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
jimduchene.blogspot.com American Chimpanzee
@JimDuchene
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