Daddy points to the screen at one of the two Bush daughters.
“That’s the slutty one, I think.”
I can’t tell which he has pointed at, but I’m pretty sure I can pick the slutty one.
“She’d go down in like, five minutes.”
Daddy laughs hysterically, then screams:
“J! Do you know what is in the fridge?”
“Day-Old Banana Pudding!”
He then offers me a bowl, sings the “Day-Old Banana Pudding” song from last night, makes a bacon and pickle sandwich, and rearranges everything on the front of and inside the refrigerator before making coffee, washes some dishes while frying more bacon.
He asks me to grind some coffee beans, puts them into an old unmarked coffee can, and tells me this particular coffee is our little secret.
He gets lonely without Shirley around. Which is awesome, because a bored and lonely Daddy is a jackpot for whoever is around.
“Do you love Billy Bob Thornton as much as I do?”
Yes, I do.
“Good. I didn’t understand what women see in him, because he’s so dorky-looking, but now I think I get it. He’s a neat man. David Lee Roth is a tool and a half. But at least he’s funny.”
David Lee Roth? Yeah, he is a tool. (WTF?) But kind of … grandly. Like he takes it to a spiritual level.
“I know what you mean.”
(Not even I know what I mean, I’m just trying to keep up.)
“Richard Gere, though. He is just a tool. Not funny at all.”
No, not funny at all.
Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.
“The kids will be home soon, and it’ll be twenty-four hour Needful Things, and your niece is going to wake up in two microseconds, and then all the fun will be over. I’ve got a lot to get done before that happens. Now, help me wrap these potatoes in foil.”
And I do, because he’s right. It never lasts long enough.