Poor Dad

Monday after I finished my workout at my parent’s house, my dad came home from work.

My mom was making dinner.

Dad walks in, goes straight to a note on the table and says in a very frustrated voice, “Alright, when am I supposed to call them?”

Mom, gives a chuckle while Dad answers his own question by reading the note.

Dad frustratingly walks off to go sit on his chair to dial the number.

Me: “Hello to you to.”

Completely distracted by his frustration, he doesn’t even notice I said anything.

Me: “Who does Dad have to call and why is he so frustrated?”

Mom: “Dad got a call today to go and get a colonoscopy on Wednesday.”

Dad, on hold, suddenly tuned into the conversation.

Me, realizing what this meant…started laughing.

Dad, not thinking the situation was funny, laughed anyway and said, “This is not funny!”

Me, dying with laughter.

Dad, not amused.

I left.

Matt and I came back later that evening.

Dad, looking perturbed.

Me, didn’t even say a word. All I did was look at him. Each time I did, I broke out into silent uncontrollable laughter.

Dad, noticed the silent uncontrollable laughter. Wasn’t amused.

Me, days later. Found out he thought he was going to be put to sleep during the procedure.

He wasn’t.

Still find myself breaking out into silent uncontrollable laughter every time I see him.

Dad, still isn’t amused.