12 January 2008

Why Parents Drink

(Thanks to DJ over at The Rott)

A boss wondered why one of his most valued employees had not phoned in sick one day. Having an urgent problem with one of the main computers, he dialled the employee’s home phone number and was greeted with a child’s whisper: “Hello.”

“Is your daddy home?” he asked.

“Yes,” whispered the small voice.

“May I talk with him?”

The child whispered, “No.”

Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, “Is your mummy there?”

“Yes.”

“May I talk with her?”

Again, the small voice whispered, “No.”

Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, “Is anybody else there?”

“Yes,” whispered the child, “a policeman!”

Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee’s home, the boss asked, “May I speak with the policeman?”

“No, he’s busy”, whispered the child.

“Busy doing what?”

“Talking to daddy and mummy and the fireman,” came the whispered answer.

Growing more worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, “What is that noise?”

“A helicopter” answered the whispering voice.

“What is going on there?” demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.

Again, whispering, the child answered, “The search team just landed the helicopter.”

Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated the boss asked, “What are they searching for?”

Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle: “ME.”

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(Go here and read the comments to this one...)

It's really a blessing of sorts when your teenagers enter that phase where they're mortified by the very idea of you, preferring to imagine that they were created by pixies and laid under a cabbage patch, to be discovered and raised later on by wolves. It beats the hell out of having to admit the fat, pasty, middle-aged person in the minivan has shown up at school to pick up you.

It's a blessing, of course, because revenge is a dish best served cold, and parents have to exact some sort of punishment for the routine humiliation teenagers doled out to their parents ten years earlier.

I have had many such moments, such as the time, and I won't name names here although he deserves it, one of my kids announced to my mother over the phone that "sometimes my penis gets really big! And it feels good!"

For hands-down humiliation, however, I haven't yet been able to top my neighbor's misery, when his three year old daughter interrupted his poker game by running naked into the room and screaming with a joyous voice of discovery, "DADDY! DID YOU KNOW? I COME WITH MY OWN POCKET! AND IT CAN HOLD A PEN! LOOK!"

And while he was knocking his chair over to get across the room to put a stop to her performance, she showed all his friends where the pocket was and how well you could put in and take out all kinds of things.

This is a man who's going to show up at his daughter's high school graduation drunk and shirtless, with her name painted across his chest and gut, randomly shouting "WOOO!!!" during her valedictory speech and making devil horns with his upraised hands. And she will have totally earned it.

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