GOT MA BRAINS FROM ME PAW

My mom thinks my dad is an idiot.

Oh, she may not say that exact word but if you listen carefully to the tone of her voice and see that specific gleam in her eye, it is pretty safe to infer that goofy and idiot roughly translate to the same thing.

Let's take today for example.

My dad, in a fit of brilliance, decided rather than wait until someone else was done with the lift, that he would simply climb the shelves in the warehouse where he works. He made it up there no problem and was a good story off the ground before he teetered, realized he was going down, and jumped for it.

And tore up his middle finger in the process.

Now, I wouldn't go so far as to call my dad a clutz but this certainly isn't the first time he's lost his balance. As he turned, his finger got caught on something above him that he'd initially reached for to steady himself, and tore a jagged slice through the meat of his finger. It's somewhere between a scratch and disfiguringly maimed (and only required 8 stitches and no vicodin).

He yelped, "Jay fall down!" and tucked and rolled (or tripped on his cape) to end up back on his feet to the amazement of his four coworkers.

He drove himself to the urgent care and had to get a tetanus shot. The nurse told him it would hurt a lot less if he relaxed his arm when she gave him the shot. He told her it was relaxed. He just works out.

She laughed.

Then he did relax his arm.

She laughed harder.

Mom went to pick him up and he said on the way home they bought her a little nurses outfit. He said it's cute but rather short and he doesn't know what's the matter with him but he just becomes such a clutz when she's around and he keeps dropping things. He's also requesting sponge bathes.

Apparently, that is where Mom draws the line.

* * *

I woke up last night at 11:30, groggy and confused. I stared at my clock for a long while and thought, "I am REALLY freaking late for work. Wait. Why is it still dark outside?"