"It's healthy for a man to work with wood..."

A few weeks ago I was talking to my Dad on the phone.
He lives in Florida so I don't get to see him that often, and we aren't terribly good about emailing one another- though we do here and there but I really like to talk to him. I love to hear him laugh when he gets my jokes, in a way that only he can since he is the one who tweeked my sense of humor, just so.
So anyway, as we were getting started in our conversation I asked him what he was doing with himself that weekend and he told me- "Oh lets see... long pause.... well, I built a sub-woofer today."

I said, "You did?"

"A subwoofer?"

Then I laughed and asked, "Why did you build a sub-woofer Dad?"

My Dad said, "well for my surround sound system of course!"
(Of course)

I didn't say anything in response to that so he went on saying "Oh I don't know, I was just reading about how to build a sub-woofer and I thought what the hell! So I built it and it sounds grrrreat! I'll send you a picture!"

And he did.
And I love it.

That is it in the upper left hand corner over there.

Honestly, on my screen, from my email, the picture is 4 times as big and just really great looking! It catches the sparkle of pride in his eye and his great smile which you can't see too well since it's so teeny.
I don't know why I couldn't get it to transfer well onto my blog?
(shrug)

All I can say is that the skill/creativity/patience that my father has to build, manipulate and create things which when he is finished are actually useful and often lovely is not something that he passed on to me...

Nor did he pass on his math skills or map following skills....

instead I got carbon copies of his feet, bulbous hairy, unladylike hammer toes, (which I later passed on to my helpless children) big ears, curly hair, a gap in my teeth which I have a hard time keeping filled and an excellent sense of humor - which is definitely needed when you are faced with such challenges as these from early in life!

I'm smiling as I write this, because even though as a kid I cared about these things sooooooo much, as an adult I am more concerned about being peri-menopausal, whether or not I'll make it to the gym before work each day this week like I promised myself I would; so that when we look at our wedding pictures folks don't pick them up and say things like
"my you looked so plump/chunky!"

Eww...

I worry about things like if Nicholas will be able to stay blind to the fact that one could categorize me this way- just long enough that I can fall back out of the category?

(God I hope so.)

Keep those glasses on baby!

Come on.... eat the other side of the mushroom......
(I love you)

I don't care that my hair is turbo curly even though straight will always be much more in style.

And truly, how could it not be?

When I have properly washed my feet - that also often smell a lot like my Dad's, I'll let Nicholas play with my toes sometimes and when he does I often blabber to him about when I was a young girl complaining to my Dad about how ugly my toes were and how they looked like his and he would say to me - "We have the most beautiful feet in the WORLD!"

To which my Mom would giggle and roll her eyes.
(Because we don't)

But after a few minutes of him going on and on and on about how incredible our feet looked, I felt a little proud about them since he made me laugh.

Laughter is a very powerful thing and a Dad that can make you laugh - really really rolling on the floor laughing- even 15 years after the original incident- well that sets the stage for the whole rest of your life really.

Sometimes I sit back and listen to Nicholas talk to the kids, who don't always get his humor yet or sometimes the fact that he was joking and so sometimes they get frustrated too because his humor is often subtle- or then again so far the other direction that it doesn't come off as what it really is - which must make him feel very superior at times as well, and anyway sometimes while I'm watching him interact with them I think to myself how creative and quick a truly funny mind has to be. Like his.

Funny.

Like my Dad too.

I could accept no less.

I remember a few years ago while my Dad was standing up on a short ladder in their Kitchen at the first house they owned in Florida, remodeling and making a terrific and dusty mess that their various cats were covered in and floated through the air through out the house.
I looked up at him and my mom looked up at him and my daughter looked up at him... and I think we all looked up at him right then because he had screamed SHIT! so loudly and angrily just the moment before that he had all of our undivided attention for that moment... even though I don't remember him ever stopping what he was doing, or spitting or swearing, (LOL) to really notice us and my Mom said something she has said to me a few different times in my adulthood.


She said, "It's healthy for a man to work with wood."




It happened in conversation at work this past Thursday afternoon that I was standing there in her office while the maintenance man was talking with our Executive Director about bids he had received on a project that were so outrageous (!*%$#) he was considering just doing the project on his own that I thought to my mom's words and interjected them...

It seemed appropriate.

But I didn't say them quite right and quite unintentionally, I noticed, because of the strained silence that followed what I said and upon replaying it in my head I just had to laugh my apologies out loud because I sounded like SUCH a perv!



But I didn't mean it that way.