When I was a kid, all of our fellow classmates (both mine and my brother’s) knew my mom. She was my Girl Scout leader, my brother’s Cub Scout leader, always drove for field trips and was a member of the PTA.
But because our dad’s a hermit, and because my brother is darker complected than I, everyone assumed that we had different fathers, clear up until high school. I actually had people ask me if my brother’s dad was Mexican or black.
It didn’t help that my brother spent his summers outside playing soccer, while I sat inside reading or doing crafts or playing computer games.
To be honest, I’m the albino in the family. Even if I go tanning or go someplace tropical for vacation, I’m still the whitest one of the lot. Even the people who are hereditarily “whiter” than I am, like my mom.
Last week, my 57-year-old father asked me, “So . . .what role are you playing in the new Twilight movie?”
“At least I’m not going to have skin cancer like the rest of you.”
But really, I probably WILL get skin cancer and the rest of them will be fine, just because I’m so white. It doesn’t help that I’m actually allergic to sunshine and develop welts or a rash if I go somewhere in more southern latitudes.
Later, my dad went to take a shower. When he emerged, he had all of his gray hair combed forward.
“What the hell? Why’d you do your hair like that?”
“I’m not too old for Bieber hair!” He did a little jig.
My mom just rolled her eyes and laughed.
He sat down to watch America’s Got Talent. Some singer-kid had his hair combed forward. Howie Mandel told him he was too old to have his hair like that.
My dad piped up. “Hey! No one’s too old for Bieber hair!”
“Mom, where is he getting this from?”
“Leno. You know he gets all his jokes from Leno.”
P.S. My mom and I are going on a Girl’s Weekend to Laughlin, NV at the end of August. Just the two of us. I’ve had to start tanning to build up some base, otherwise it’s going to be a miserable trip. My mom actually called me once she bought the tickets, just to tell me to buy a tanning package ASAP. My parents are mean.
Your dad is hilarious. Very ‘with it’ (that is MY parent speak for cool) My dad is funny though more in a middle-aged gentleman type way, nicknaming my friends for the woodland creatures they supposedly resemble.