Last night I dreamt that SeaFed was on a game show that involved producing streams of bullshit at lightning speed. He did very well! He insisted on making me watch the tape after and I couldn’t help but notice how old he was looking, which is something I have no clue about since I cannot actually remember the last time I saw him. Has it been a year? Possibly.
Speaking of fathers, I dragged P. out with me, whom I had extremely important plans with to watch Gilmore Girls later, just like in ye olde days. My goal was to dial M for Meat and get some random animal parts to make this thing that takes like three days this weekend, no kidding. But I had to start FRIDAY NIGHT because stage one takes 12 hours. I had a total I WANT AN OOMPALOOMPA NOW DADDY moment in my sad head when it was only 7:30 and the meat saw was already shut down for the night, and I was told it would take a half-hour to reassemble. I WONDER.
The best part, though, was taking P. to the drug store. He was holding his Feral Dwarf’s hand (currently she is HIS since she penned on the window sill yesterday) and the clerk said, “Happy Father’s Day” to him to be nice, and he responded with nothing more than a stunned and confused look.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the clerk said quickly. “I assumed she was his…”
“Yes, she is,” I said. “He just doesn’t know there is a holiday this weekend.”
“Ah ha,” she said, confused.
He turned to me as we walked away. “Father’s Day,” he said, wonderingly.
“Yes, you had better call your father on Sunday,” I said.
“Huh. It’s nice to be remembered,” he said.
“Yeah, it is,” I sighed, thinking about how Mother’s Day went forgotten this year.
There is a little bit of vindictive ignoring of Father’s Day on my part, I admit, and about three parts “eh.” It is obviously not important to anyone I know. It’s probably time to just let it go and save my money for a BOOTY POP or something.