~:D A D:~ I'm a little worried about my Dad. Okay - A LOT worried about my Dad. My father has always been a funny man. Capable of deep spirituality and yet loves a party, too. When he was a kid, his siblings called him the Jerry Lewis of the family. I can only imagine. Maybe that's where Tommy and Peter got it from? Then again, my mother's very funny, too.
We always said Dad looked just like Peter Sellers as Inspector Clouseau, especially when he had a mustache, which he did for most of my childhood. (When he shaved it off, I almost died.) Ah shit. I just love my family. We now live 2 miles away from each other. And they're still in the same houe we all grew up in. It's a nice life. When I am with my Dad, I feel special. Kissing him hello and goodbye is meaningful. I know he's proud of me. I can't describe in words how wonderful that feels. I love being the only girl. I could ask my Dad to do anything and he'd do it. Okay - nuff of the mushy stuff. Onto this ridiculous story.
This Xmas our family has decided to draw names out of a hat so that each person receives one great gift from someone else. This way, we're not all frantically scrambling around trying to find something fabulous for everyone. We get to concentrate on one someone special.
In preparation for this manner of gift giving, we sent out e-mails with wish lists of things we'd love to get as gifts. My father's e-mail was meant to be a joke (i think??)It was particularly disturbing. In an effort to be silly, he freaked me out. Though I know he's totally kidding, I'm going to try my best to embarrass him here. Below is his e-mail describing his wish list. And below that is my response. And below that is a lovely picture which is what I imagined when reading his horrific wish list.
I love you, Dad. Thanks for letting me tease you.
XOXOX,
~Anne
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On Nov 5, 2005, at 5:58 PM, Thomas L Dusenberry wrote:
O.K. den Anne-D...............Here's what I need for the Christmas thingy event. I want to peddle a bycicle around the Wolffork Road in Rabun Gap. I just bought the snappy little tight bike pants that tightens your tushey and makes you look fruity. Now I would very much like to "accessorize" with some swell, I'm certain, matching outerwear. I'll wear the outfit(s) when I do the after Xmas bike sales in January for my birthday so that everyting is color cordinated with the bike (it'll be a three-wheeler I think so that I won't like tip over and rip my tight little pants and stuff). Is this the shits or what? If it's appropriate, I may even wear the outfit(s) to church or the Harris Teeter or bank. Thanks for the great idea,
Love, your excited Dad
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From: Anne
Subject: Re: xmas gift ideas
Date: November 5, 2005
To: Dad
Dad?
You're a freak.
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2 comments:
OK Everyone. This is a reply from a dear friend of my folks:
Dearest Anne,
My sympathies. We, of "the gang" had the misfortune of witnessing YOUR DAD IN HIS TIGHT LITTLE BIKE PANTS, for most of the week we spent at Pawley's Island. We tried being tactful, asking, "Tom, are you gong to the grocery store -- AGAIN -- in those tight little bike pants?" And then as he responded gleefully, at first, and then a little impatiently, that, yes, indeed he was, we shared looks that even SOUNDED like tongue clicking, and meant, "so sad, too bad about Tom." Each day we waited, anxiously I admit, to see if he would decide to wear something else. It didn't happen. We wondered, aloud, even, whether or not we had even BROUGHT any other clothes. Nancy assured us that he had, indeed, brought other clothes and that she, too, was more than a little concerned. I DO know that he actually rode a bicycle in those tight little pants, presumably with his helmet, and went up and down the island. And now, I really hate asking, has he worn anything else since? and does he have TWO pairs of tight little bike pants?
Anxious in Grant Park,
Anita
More power to Tom! Bike shorts, ahoy.
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