After the wedding ceremony, I descended from the choir loft to find my family. From up there, it was disturbingly easy to identify all of them. All I would have to do was look for women with good hair sitting next to men with no hair or huge, glaring bald spots. During the more boring parts of the ceremony, I fantasized about trying to skip a quarter from the head of one balding relative to another. My cousin T. is the only one who has escaped the balding curse, but I get an honorable mention for being as old as I am and still have most of my hair (damn you, receding hairline).
But I digress.
Once I found my family, my father told me that there was a bottle of windshield wiper fluid in the trunk of the car that I was driving, and he would need to get it for his car before we all left the reception to head home. He was running out on the drive to the church and didn't want to risk the highway drive home with all the slush and salt being kicked up on the roads. That Cleveland weather, you know.
Once we finally got around to leaving the reception, having to surgically remove my mother from the dance floor, the parking lot was a virtual sheet of ice and the temperatures were close to, if not below, zero. Due to back problems, my father is prone to losing his balance and having his legs give out on him (something which is amusing at home when there is a cat at his feet that narrowly avoids being squashed, but not when he is in an icy parking lot). My mission was to run ahead to my car, get the heat started for K. (I'm a good boyfriend), and fetch the bottle of windshield wiper fluid for my father. K. and my mother each grabbed one of my father's arms to keep him steady and prevent themselves from slipping across the parking lot as well.
"Oh never mind the wiper fluid," Dad said as we headed out. "I should be fine until we got home. It's too cold to stand out here and deal with it."
"But what if you run out on the highway?" I said.
"Then he'll just do what he did when we were younger," Mom piped up. "He'll just whip it out and pee on the windshield."
K. almost lost hold of my father and I almost lost hold of the buffet food in my stomach.
"That's...uh, nice," said K.
All I could do was stutter out of sheer horror and embarrassment, "You mean, while you're driving?"
"His penis is very bendy," said Mom.
"You know, talking about my cock with my boyfriend is one thing," I groaned with disbelief. "But dad's??? Come on!"
Having learned long ago that sometimes it's better just to be quiet and take it like a man, Dad just had his usual expression of amusement on his face. Or maybe he realized that he just might have to resort to the pee plan and was trying to hold it in.
Posted by mak at January 15, 2004 3:59 PM