Mi Padre

So my dad is in town, and the other night he was over until about 11 pm, talking with the fiance and I. 11 pm seems to be the witching hour, the time when he MUST go home and talk to my stepmother on the phone or risk serious punishment, so he asked if we could take him to his hotel. That's when the following conversation ensued:

Me: "Okay, just let me go to the restroom before I explode." (I drank 2 large "2 and 3/4 lb" iced teas that evening, I'd like to add.)

Dad: "Uh, that sure was graphic."

??? This is the man who told me his grandmother used to say "Didja get any on ya?" after someone would loose a particularly heinous belch. This is the guy who, last night, said "Maybe it meant something different where I came from" when my fiance sweetly explained that his talent at tying cherry stems in knots with his tongue "meant he was a good kisser."

I guess my stepmother is wearing off on him, after 15 years of marriage, and that first night away was still under her influence. I have learned to accept some of her idiosyncrocies (and hopefully, she some of mine), and one of hers is that she was raised as a modern-day Southern belle. Women don't discuss certain things. She claims never to have, ah, passed gas in her entire life. When I was younger and would have to burp, she would look appalled and say "ladies don't do that!" Well, dammit, I guess I'm just not a lady. Shucks. My chances of marrying a rich man and being well-cared for are OVER. It's so funny because she's actually a fairly independent woman, successful in her job despite having to go to school part-time to get the college degree she couldn't get as a young adult. She just plays this role of being helpless, easily offended by things (she left during "Saving Private Ryan"; it was too gory for her), and totally submissive. Which is great for my dad, who likes to pretend he's in charge, but actually be led around. So it works for them.

Thank goodness I can burp in front of my fiance.