Tuesday, November 22, 2011

dad's in town

Been a bit of a chaotic week.

I got back from Scunthorpe - in one piece - this is still relevant, to my Dad.

Dad's in England. I haven't see him for a year and a half. Last seen in June 2010, as I was packing up my house in Joburg.

The circumstances in which Dad visits aren't great ones - his sister, my aunt, who lives here and is someone I have grown very close to since living here, is not well.

Either way, he's here, in all his eccentric glory. I love my Dad dearly, but this doesn't come without its complications.

He's staying at our place and my aunt's in Wimbledon. Getting him between the two places has caused me a certain amount of cranial autism. But more about that later.

The Brit has met him for the first time.
Which is pretty daunting for a dude, sure.

Dad is harmless, the opposite of intimidating. However Dad is also weird. The Brit is patient and kind, and laughs at all of Dad's jokes but hell if I don't get a clump of new grey hairs each time I see Dad.

If the world does something one way, he needs to - there's a need here - to go out of his way to do it differently. And for no reason whatsofuckinever. As entertaining as this is, he can be unbendingly impractical.

Most of the time, it fucks me off, other times I remind myself that Dad has been through a pretty tough over the last year. And he's still my Dad. And my only Dad.

It's funny when he theorises shit, like below:

Dad: "What the fuck is this, why do people have kitchen cupboards? If you ever have your own kitchen, do not get kitchen cupboards."

Peas: I do have my own kitchen.

Dad: Well take out the cupboards.

Peas: No.

It's not so funny when he refuses to listen to anyone that is trying to help him. Like this:

"Dad here is a travel card. With this you can get on any bus, train, tube in London. For the whole week."

Dad: As long as it involves a journey I don't need to change. Can't be bothered to change.

Peas: To come to our house, you'll need to change. But only once.

Dad: I'm not doing journeys that involve changing.

Peas: I'll tell you how to do it, it's easy I promise.

Dad: No. Too much hassle. I'll take one bus from start to finish.

Peas: Sure you can. But you'll end up in Ealing or worse, Watford. Or Scunthorpe.

Dad: I need a bus map for the whole of London I'm afraid. Before I get on a bus.

Peas: There is no such map. There are too many buses. There are 'area' maps. Those will be fine. Each bus shelter shows where you can go anyway.

Dad: No.

Anyway in light of the fact he's only here until Sunday, I've taken off Friday to travel to Horsham with him to see some friends.

Take him to the comedy and to the pub. So he can experience the best of British. Although he insists he's done it all already.

Sometimes I wonder how I turned out so fucking sane.

Yes me. Sane even. In comparison.


po said...

My dad is pretty much the same, so opposite. The thing is, so am I! I wonder where I got it from...

Spear The Mighty said...

Lol! My parents get weirder with age. Seriously, every year when I visit them in South Africa they have learned some new shit to torture me with.

Peas on Toast said...

po - so you deal with these random outbursts of craziness too? I have no idea where or how it came to be....sigh

Spear - ahhahaha "some new shit to torture me with." So true. God. And it really does get worse every year. It worries me as I think: will this be me in 20 years time?! It stops me from wanting to have kids. No jokes.