In honor of Father's Day.

My dad does everything to the absolute extreme. Yesterday I talked to him for the first time in probably over a month. I talk to my mom a few times a week, but its usually just dead air when my dad is on the line. So we start out talking about the basics, "how are you?" and "hows the weather?", which in Texas, is hot and nearly 100 everyday. He starts to talk about how he went to clean out their motor home (that they can't afford to take anywhere), and how he found a large family of mice living inside. About 20, he said. And here comes the extreme part... he got rid of them, with a shop vac. When I replied with "Dad!", he went on to say "I didn't hurt them, I just sucked them up and then dumped them into the field out back". Me being pregnant and full of uncontrollable hormones, I had to ask if he hurt any babies. Rather than just saying yes, I have to give him a slight amount of credit for trying to soften the blow. "No. I didn't hurt them. They just got sucked up and thumped through to the other side". ...Wow Dad.

My dad has his own way of doing everything. A few years ago when I still lived at home, and he owned his own furniture business, I would randomly pop into his shop to see if he needed anything. Something to drink, a sandwich, someone to talk to. He would overwork himself, and forget to take breaks. One time as I was standing at a work table with him, having a conversation, he missed the wood that he was drilling, and instead drills directly into his finger. My jaw drops, and I stop talking. What does he do? He goes about his business as if it never happened. He keeps talking, with no change in voice, almost without breaking eye contact. He simply pulls the screw out of his thumb, reaches for a dirty rag, and wraps his finger. I was speechless. Things like this happened all the time.

Woodland Washington has a carnival every year, called Planters Days. I don't know why its called that, its not a big farm town or anything. Its not a big town at all. One grocery store, one post office, one public school. At the time Christopher and I were only living together, we weren't married yet. We met up with my parents at the carnival, and since this was pre-food allergies, we were ordering greasy fair food. My dad kind of stood back in the line, so I asked him "aren't you getting anything?". It was very unlike him to not eat. He shakes his head no, without saying much. So I keep pestering "why not? you love crappy food!". Finally he says "I just pulled a tooth". ...what do you mean you just pulled a tooth? You pulled it, or you had it pulled? He goes on to tell me about how his tooth had been killing him, and he couldn't take it anymore. So he went into his shop, grabbed a pair of pliers, and pulled it out. Simple as that. WRONG. I started nagging at him about infection, and how he couldn't do that kind of crap. Sure enough, it later turned into a dental emergency requiring immediate attention. Way to have your jaw get infected. "Me big strong man, me no need dentist, me pull tooth with tool!".

From top to bottom:

-"Musculus Maximouse - Gladiator Mouse - handmade felt ornament", by TheHouseOfMouse, $35.00.

-"Mice to See You - Mom and Baby White Mice", by
miselemeas, $30.00.

-"Zombie Anti-Bite First Aid Kit", by Echostatic, $8.00.

-"Zipper Carnival Ride 5x5 Fine Art Photo", by FriendlyMade, $11.00.

-"It's like pulling teeth Necklace Charm", by Ktinamk188, $6.00.