so i know it was finally time. i went to his house and gave him my most treasured gift: my book "1001 Dad Jokes" he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said " thank you so much, im honored" which made me start crying. i responded with the only thing i could say "hi honored im dad"
It was the third annual Thumb Drive.
I cut my finger open and didn't notice it.
Dad: "Hey, you cut your finger pretty bad there."
Me: "I did? Didn't notice. I lost feeling in that one a few years ago when I cut it open at the base."
Dad: "I lost sensation in my thumb after I did the same thing, so I know the feeling... Or do I?"
Driving to the store.
Me: "The tires feel kind of flat. Should probably stop at a gas station and increase the pressure."
Dad: "We have to be careful, though. Too much pressure and they'll get nervous."
Going to the Cheesecake Factory.
Me: "We have to take the bridge, right?"
Dad: "Yeah, but we're gonna have to give it back afterwards."
Goddammit, dad.
So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.
I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"
Then I start crying.
Driving past a street sign indicating "Ferres Boulevard"
I had to comment "Look, Ferris Buellervard!"
My wife gave me the thumbs up. My kids didn't get it.
