When of those memories takes place at a fair. Just one of those little set-ups in the parking lot of a mall. Dad and I didn't have a whole lot to talk about on the way there. He bought me cotton candy. While we were there, there wasn't a whole lot my dad was willing to do. We played some games, and I think he won me some big stuffed animal. Was it red? Anyway, he had no choice; he was too chicken to go on any of the rides. He wasn't much fun to go to the fair with.
But a little bit of harassment and harping throughout the evening finally got him on the "Berry-Go-Round" Please see photo below.
Yeah, that thing. And believe me, I practically had to drag him kicking and screaming. But he did it for his little girl. And he pretended to have fun on it, but I could see in his eyes that he felt like a caged animal on the way to the vet's.
We called that day Daddy Daughter Day (like on the Simpsons). We were supposed to have a lot of them. I don't think we did, though.
Another memory. Around the same time. Dad has a disgusting ingrown toe-nail that smells and changes colour according to his mood (this is my perception of things, anyway). We are off to the hospital to get the rogue toenail removed.
Dad is on a slab. There are a couple of nurses, they stick a needle in his big toe to freeze it. Dad yelps, "GEE-zuss Chrise" and I start making fun of him for being such a baby. Next, the most disgusting thing I have ever seen: the nurses literally lift up the toenail with a tiny crowbar (or this - again - is my perception of it) and snip, one by one, the little veins and strings of flesh that connect the toenail to the toe (this is still vivid in my mind). Dad is crying. Really crying! It looked painful as shit, but I didn't let him forget the day he cried over a toenail.
I can only recall one time my dad ever gave me a bath. And I'm not sure why he had to do it - I'm sure he didn't volunteer.
I was in the tub that he had run for me, but it wasn't right at all. There were no bubbles. It was like dad had no idea how kids liked their bath. How could this be?! I wanted the bubbles.
So he poured in the pink Mr. Bubble.
And nothing happened.
So he poured in more Mr. Bubble.
Still nothing.
He read the bottle.
He then decided we needed to splash around to make the bubbles.
Have you ever done this? Not easily done. This is why you are meant to pour the Mr. Bubble under the tap while it is running. But anyway.
Me and dad were splashing in this bath like crazy and although we never really achieved the desired bubble bath, we did turn the water pink and I had the best bath ever, just splashing around like crazy. I wonder if he remembers this...
And the time we went to Illinois and discovered how many cornfields there are in that state. So many. Days of driving through corn fields. We bonded over a week, drinking marshmallow Dairy Queen Blizzards (since discontinued) and missing civilization among the corn...
When we walked in the front door the night we got back fron Illinois, everyone was sitting in the livingroom watching Children of the Corn.
He who walks behind the rows...
Dad and I have had our off days, too. Especially now that I'm grown up. He likes to criticize my life, he likes to tell me that my husband will leave me someday because I spend too much money, he likes to tell me how much it broke his heart when I dropped out of University. He likes to remind me of all of my failures and he likes to make me cry when he drinks.
But I am his little girl. And I know that he just didn't always know how to relate to me, but he tried every chance he got. He really did. He's a good father, no matter what he thinks of himself.
| Elton John - My Father's Gun .mp3 | ||
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