Once upon a time, many years ago, in the days before high-speed internets, and the Miracle of the Ikea Closet System, Mike and I popped over to my parents' house unannounced. We knew my mom was out, but that she was due back soon, so we let ourselves in and proceeded back to the old man cave to say hey to my dad.
We weren't being particularly quiet or stealthy, though we could have been riding angry camels down the hall and my dad probably wouldn't have heard us coming given that the volume on the TV was set to Deafen. We get to the door and I poke my head in, casual-like, and find my dad engrossed completely in whatever is on TV. I nudge Mike to have him look in, too, because my dad ... he was a sight to behold: laid back in his recliner, watching Gangs of New York or The Beach, wearing his stew-shirt (an old SJU sweatshirt, covered in food stains, that my dad claims he will boil and use for sustenance when the apocalypse, in whatever form it takes, comes), and a pair of drumsticks tucked under his armpits.
Now, when I tell this story in person, people often look a little confused. Drumsticks? Like, the ice cream cone things? Like actual chicken drumsticks? And I have to tell them neither of those is correct. My dad had actual drum-upon-the-snare-drum drumsticks stuck in each armpit. I want to say that I don't know or understand why, but I do, on many levels. Here're two: I bought my dad the drumsticks as a gift one year (perhaps even THAT year) and 2. drumsticks are perfect for sticking in your armpits - it just works, especially when reclined.
So, there we are, 1/2 of a bad version of the Town Musicians of Bremen, peering amusedly around the door jamb, quietly trying to not call attention to ourselves. Suddenly, my dad loudly proclaims, "Me love you long time, Titanic Boy!"
Unable to control ourselves, we scram down the hall, doubled over in laughter. After several minutes, we're finally able to whisper without choking on countless belly-chortles. I say to Mike, "Holy crap! He recognizes Leonardo DiCaprio from another movie!" And that only makes us laugh more.
Earlier today, Mike emailed me to let me know that a special package had arrived in the mail. I thought it was something for me, something delightfully fibery, something crafty. But, I was wrong. He replied to me with one word: "DRUMSTICKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And that was when I realized that no matter how much I try to deny it or rationalize it or ignore it, I really have married some version of my father.
(Original image here. I decided to have some fun....)