Mar 012011
hey dad, there is a fish down there

Image by thart2009 via Flickr

I called my son yesterday. I was trapped in a 5×10 foot section of my living room, a victim of high humidity and slow-drying wood stain. I’ll tell y’all about the Great Floor Finishing Adventure in a few days…when it’s over, I recover, and sanity returns.

No smart cracks about little chance of the whole sanity thing happening soon, OK?

Anyway, being trapped where I was left me few entertainment options while I waited to escape. I checked my email and cruised by a couple of news sites on the web that I frequent, dropped in on a blog or two that I follow (leaving smart alec comments in my wake…hint, hint), then started watching TV.

Have y’all watched TV during the day lately? It’s not a pretty sight.

Hey! I made a pun! There may be hope for my writing skilz yet!

Admittedly, if I’m awake (and often when I’m not) the TV is on…but that doesn’t mean I’m watching it. It’s background noise 90% of the time. I mean come’on…how many times can you watch a bunch of 40-years-too-late hippies banging on drums in the Wisconsin capitol rotunda on FOX News before it gets boring, even to a news junkie like me?

Another favorite channel, The Discovery Channel, doesn’t get to the good stuff…MythBusters, Dirty Jobs, Flying Wild Alaska, and such…until evening. During the day it’s scintillating documentary stuff. Right now, for example, it’s The Life and Times of Lizzie Borden.

I don’t think so.

Then…salvation from boredom!

Down there in the corner of my computer screen popped up the Skype notification…”Tyler is online”.

Now…Tyler is my son, and we get along OK, except for the usual fathr-son stuff. You know…thinks-he-knows-it-all son versus knows-he-knows-it-all dad thing…and I was happy to see him online so I could chat with him.

Frankly, my boredom level had reached the point where a conversation with my ex would have been OK.

Well…not really…

Anyway…we connected and got to chatting…nothing important…how’s school…looks like rain here, how about there?…you know, just small talk, then, out of the blue comes…

“Hey Dad…are you eating OK?”

Hot damn! The kid is concerned about his old man!

Now, he’s a good kid (notwithstanding the disappearing act he pulled a couple months ago, chronicled here), but sometimes it doesn’t show. It’s always good when it does poke through though.

“I’m eating OK, son. I haven’t done much cooking the last couple of days because I can’t get to the kitchen with the wet polyurethane on the floor, but I’m OK.”

Wasn’t that nice of Tyler, showing concern for his father’s nutrition like that? We talked on a while about small things, like “No, I WOULDN”T buy you a new car even if I did win the lottery.” Then, here it came again…

“Dad, are you sure you are eating like you’re supposed to?”

Now this was a surprise. Tyler has always been concerned about me…sometimes overly so. A couple of years ago after I had been very, very sick and was still on a walker, Tyler did everything but carry me from the car to the store when he took me grocery shopping. I’ve been off the walker for a couple of years now, and this level of concern was surprising, but you know what they say about looking a gift horse in the mouth…

“Yes, Tyler, I am eating just fine, and getting plenty of nutrition. Don’t be worrying about my calorie intake, OK?”

There. That ought to settle his concerns about whether his dear old dad is eating properly, right?

“OK Dad. I was just wondering, because I know you shop at Kroger…”

Now where the heck was this going?

“… and you put the points on your Kroger shopping card. Since you don’t drive I always gas up my car at Kroger, and use your points to get a 10¢ a gallon discount. Lately I’ve only been getting a 3¢ a gallon discount because there aren’t enough points on your card for the full 10¢ discount, and I knew you weren’t spending as much.”

All well, so much for Tyler’s filial devotion to dear old dad.

The little turd.


All about Bob the nutjob!

Bob is a N Georgia blogger, homesteader, yurt liver, self-sufficiency nutjob, pig farmer, political activist, politician baiter...and the best damn cook you know that doesn't make a living at it.He can be followed onTwitter. You can also "Like" our Facebook page.

  5 Responses to “My son claims to love me. Sometimes I wonder though…”

Comments (5)
  1. Bob, you old know it all.
    You are bound and determined to turn the fact that your son still wants to have any kind of conversation with you, nackered old goat that you are (My son calls me that after watching the looney guys on that British car show).
    The only way the kid would have to know if you are eating since you apparently don’t break bread together is the indicator that you buy enough food to get him a ten cent discount. It is the only way he can know and you make it into a negative.
    Quit your belly aching and count your blessings.

  2. Hmmm…could have SWORN I tagged this post “humor”…LOL

  3. You know what Abraham Lincoln said about sheep. He asked how many legs a sheep has if you call the tail a leg, Nope, it is not five because calling the tail a leg doesn’t make it one. You can call it anything you want. You are still a grouchy old goat.

  4. I don’t know how old your son is (Mine is 30) but there’s nothing like having a good Adult father/son relationship.

  5. Hansi…he and I have a prtty good relationship. The only problems arise when his young adult (he’s 20) “thinks he knows everything” attitude collides with my control freak “I REALLY DO know everything” ‘tude. LOL. Then there is a bit of head bumping.


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