Fathers’ Day ‘08

Father’s Day… when we get together and say, “Thanks Dad, for putting up with me all those years, dealing with my BS, and loving me anyway.”

It takes a lot of patience to be a father.  My patience is put to the test when small things like my cat or my co-workers annoy me, which shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence with what a father goes through on a daily basis.  My father had his share of troubles from his children, and that includes all the crap I did.

I treated my father to breakfast on Saturday, being as we were to spend some time Sunday with Zai’s father.  We went to the Original Pancake House, a place I had never been before, and which had a much less than stellar review over at Perrero, but despite that, the food was very good.  I had a skillet with bacon and red pepper, with a side of some of the best chocolate chip pancakes I’ve ever had.  The prices were pretty high, however, with coffee at $2 a cup, and the waitress spent most of our meal ignoring us.

So, decent enough, I suppose, would have preferred better service at those prices…

Anyhow, we spent the rest of the morning at dad’s, chatting and catching the last half of the Shawshank Redemption.  It was a good way to spend a Saturday morning.

When we left, we decided to go to Dairy Queen, which I haven’t been to in years.  I bought a small Butterfinger Blizzard, and Zai got a chocolate strawberry sundae.  I watched them make it…

I’m not sure what mental handicap every Dairy Queen employee has… but It’s as irritating now as it was when I was young.  When you fill a bowl with ice cream and syrup, make sure the minature lake of syrup is BELOW the rim of the cup, not above.  It was filled about a quarter inch into the cap, which meant there was a huge mess just waiting to happen as soon as that cap was removed.

I saw Zai walk towards the car, and I had to put an end to that right away, “Where you going?  Sit down at the table out here and eat.”

Visibly annoyed, she grumbles, “Fine.”

She sat down and the damn sundae explodes all over the table and her hands.  There is strawberry and chocolate sauce everywhere, completely covering her hands and table, and thankfully not in the car I just cleaned.  She threw the sundae away and went to the gas station across the street to wash up.  She ran back with stories of urine everywhere, graffiti on the walls, and bugs in the sink.

So gas stations have dirty bathrooms… I did not know that.

In any case, thank you dad, the breakfast I bought for you does not even begin to repay you.

Zel-kun out.