Category Archives: Food Issues
Thanksgiving Musings
A conversation overheard after Thanksgiving dinner with the family: Dad: I am merely a sardine in the company of whales. Me: Dad! That’s mean! Dad: What? That’s a compliment! I am merely a sardine in the company of saints. Me: … Continue reading
Filed under Food Issues, My Dad Is Nuts
Expired Milk Is Expired, Spoiled Or Not
Am I wrong for refusing to drink milk the day after it expires? I don’t care if it tastes normal and smells the opposite of sour. I draw the line at expired milk; the mere idea of it grosses me … Continue reading
Filed under Food Issues
My Dad, Professional Plastic Hoarder
My dad remodeled our kitchen back in 1999, a year after my mother passed away. I am quite certain that the kitchen hasn’t had a deep cleaning since he vacuumed up the sawdust after building and installing the cabinets. Last … Continue reading
Filed under Food Issues, My Dad Is Nuts, My Dad's Favorite Hobby
Late Night Snacktime
My dad is a night owl. For years, I would wake up at 3am to use the restroom, only to find him in his office, snoring face-down on his keyboard. Now my father spends his evenings watching action movies in … Continue reading
Filed under Food Issues
The Great Ice Debate
Today I opened the freezer at my dad’s house and found 10 Stouffer’s frozen dinners and five Cool Whip containers filled with water, also frozen. Me: Why do you have five Cool Whip tubs filled with water in the freezer? … Continue reading
Filed under Food Issues, Lifestyle Differences, My Dad Is Nuts
After 8 peaceful years on my own, I left my tiny New York City apartment for my hometown of Independence, Missouri, a mere five days before my 30th birthday. Why? I missed my dad. Biannual visits weren't enough; I longed for Sunday dinners with The Ol' Man. But I forgot that before I can enjoy those occasional dinners, only to go back to my own Kansas City apartment, I would need to take up temporary residence. In my childhood home. After losing my mother to cancer in 1998, my outspoken, liberal, Vietnam veteran hippie father has grown accustomed to living alone. And when my cat and I move in, my 60-year-old pop's bachelor pad (and world) is turned upside down. -
