Note: This post is part of Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs, where all the cool kids are hanging out. (Moms are welcome over there!) Welcome to my visitors from DB; thanks for stopping in!
I am really happy with the way I was raised. My parents, though somewhat strict compared to others, were on a mission to raise their two girls well, and as you all know, they did a great job. Julesie and I are models of society. *giggles*
Seriously. We are.
Anyway, when we’re all together, the Fab Five and my/our Mom and Dad, the same funny stories are repeated over and over again. I’m not going to spill a bunch of them right now, but I have to tell you that without a doubt, when we’re story-tellin’, our parents always comment that Julesie and I “only remember the bad stuff.”
It’s just that the “bad stuff” is frickin’ funny. (Note: our “bad stuff” would be the “incredibly good stuff” for any person who thinks they had a bad childhood. Our “bad stuff” is not literally bad. Just sayin’.)
There’s lots of good stuff that is great fodder for conversation. For example, though I was mortified at the time, when I was a teenager, my Dad used to eat Milk Bone Dog Treats in front of my friends. To get a laugh. (My Dad loves attention.)
Obviously, for a girl who is anywhere between fourteen and seventeen, this type of behavior is not only frowned on but is an out-and-out violation of the Parents of Teenagers Code, as written by teenagers. Teens, if they actually communicate with their parents, mainly want their parents to stay on the better side of the fine line between cool and totally embarrassing.
Of course, it also totally goes above and beyond the guidelines of the Parents of Teenagers Code, as written by parents. Parents, if they actually communicate with their teens, want to be considered “cool and somewhat impressive” by their kids’ friends, but don’t want to become old fuddy-duddys just because their kids are growing up.
Back to the Milk Bones. Embarrassing. They can’t even taste that good, but Dad always said they were delicious. I was horrified each and every time he did this as if I had never seen it before, and totally knew he was making me a weirdo among my friends.
Guess what? Of course, as a teenager who thought she knew everything, I was wrong.
My friends thought my Dad was awesome. (They still do.)
I thought that his Milk Bone days ended ages ago, until one day last year when he and I were talking. He was telling me what happened at work that morning. You see, he’s the general manager of a hotel. A hotel that welcomes small dogs.
Apparently a woman was checking in with her little canine buddy, and my Dad pulled the container of Milk Bones out from behind the front desk. I don’t remember how he said the conversation went, but I know that it ended with one of those Milk Bones ending up in his mouth.
He didn’t say if the lady thought he was cool and somewhat impressive.