Dad Story

So the Father's Day post got me thinking of a couple of dad stories. As alluded to in the list, my father is cheap and prides himself on being so - in fact, he's the first one to admit it. He is known in the family for his affinity involving super glue...he tries to fix almost everything with it (some fathers might do this with duct tape instead).

Several years ago, before he needed to wear glasses all the time, my dad only had a pair of reading glasses. True to his cheap-o-sity, he'd had the same pair for, oh, probably since before I was born (I was late teens-early 20s at the time, I think)...those big, giant, square dad-glasses. Anyway, they were old enough to be getting a bit greenish around the edges and were generally gross looking. While he worked, the glasses frequently fell out of the case in his breast pocket onto the pavement and one of the lenses would usually pop out. So what did he do? Super glue! After several times of this happening, he had just a small hole left in the middle of the offending lens to see out of, while the rest was just filmy from all the glue that had been applied. What the hell, dad...get a new pair of glasses already! It wasn't long after that when he finally decided to fork over the money, plus he was starting to need them more for distance, less for reading.

The next tidbit is less about super glue as just a moment of utter, horrific embarrassment on my part. I was a senior in high school and sitting innocently "listening" to our director during band when my friend tapped my shoulder -"K, your dad's here". Huh? My dad never came to school during the day...what the heck? I went out in the instrument room and asked him what was up. He asked me if I had the extra set of keys to the car we shared (a beautiful 1979 Chrysler LeBaron, powder blue with a white top - how lovely). I couldn't answer right away, as I was riveted by what I saw as he spoke. An old guy with a prominent chin - completely missing his false teeth so his face was sunken in like the cryptkeeper. He had tried a few days ago to fix his broken bottom plate with, what else? Super glue! Well, that time it didn't work, so he had to send them in to be fixed. For some reason, he had to wear both plates or none. O.M.G. The horror I felt...and of course I had to ask, "Dad, how did you know where to find me...?", to which the obvious answer was, "I asked at the office!". Ohhhhhh noooooooo.

Even though I was mortified at the time, I can and do laugh about it now. My father still doesn't know why I was so embarrassed. Go figure.