More fun with my parents

So in my typically indiscreet fashion, I told my mom about cherry onion firefly after quoting her extensively. Of course, in my mom's typical mom fashion, her first comment was that my writing style has not athrophied and reamins engaging. Her second response was to tell me she didn't read everything because she wasn't sure if it was private or not which is completely hilarious not only because that probably is not true, but also because I am the least secretive person on the planet (ex: "I am retarded for you." "Haha. You're retarded?" "No! *I'm* not retarded...I...er..." FUCK.). Then my mom told me that my dad was kind of disappointed that I hadn't written anything about him yet which is so adorable it makes my teeth hurt.

My dad is very easy going and very Texan. He knows everything about geography, history, and politics. I get my uncanny sense of direction from him. All my guy friends drive up to Dallas to tailgate with Daddy even if I'm not anywhere near Dallas because he's that awesome.

The problem is that Daddy stories usually work better being told than transcribed because my dad tends to make up words or twang them randomly. In case you're a yankee, a twang is a Texas accent, it isn't called a "drawl." Every once in a while my dad will use really obscure words for perfectly normal things too, like calling something "persimmon" instead of orange-colored. I'm not even sure my dad's ever even eaten a persimmon, but there you go.


So I will make a concerted effort to incude more Daddy stories as they transpire.