Stupid Dad Words – Part 2

On a couple of occasions in the past, I’ve blogged about my dad and his quirkiness. I’m not going to bore you with the history, but my dad is back in Mississippi and living here at the inn with my husband and I again. It has been a blessing and a burden at the same time.

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Stupid Dad Words

Image courtesy Google Images

We all know our parents are a little nutty but we love them despite their weirdness. I’ve often wondered how I could have turned out so perfectly normal when I have such goofball parents. Fortunately, I have no children to dispute my normalness, so you’re just going to have to take my word for it.

Anyhoo, so my dad has always mixed up words and smushed words together into one stupid new word; more so when he’s trying to sound really smart. Most days I just smile inwardly and say “uh huh,” and just let the conversation continue as though what he said was exactly right.

Photo courtesy Google Images

Other times I grit my teeth to keep from screaming at him, especialy if I’ve already corrected him on the exact same word.

Some of my dad’s favorite wrong phrases include hi fi and interstate. A conversation he had on the phone the other day went something like this: “I can’t get on the interstate because I don’t have hi fi for my computer.” I rolled my eyes and continued to listen to my dad try to explain to the person on the receiving end of the call, what they heck he was trying to say.

Another favorite of his is “flusterated.” I guess he doesn’t know the difference between flustered and frustrated so he simply squishes them together and hopes people know what he’s trying to say. This look I’m sure has appeared on my face many times.

Photo courtesy Google Images

Yeah, he’s got a special language, all his own. And, on a side note, one not involving an incorrect word, but very similar, the other day he told me he needed help setting up his cassette recorder so he could watch his movies. I asked if he meant his VCR for his video tapes and he said, “No for my little records.” Little records?

Photo courtesy Google Images

Turns out “little records” are cd’s and what he was needing help with was his DVD player.

Photo courtesy Google Images

Yup, my dad needs a cassette recorder for his little records.

What crazy dad words get your all fired up? Do your parents have words or expressions that make you cringe? Do your parents have hi fi on their interstates?

Word of the Day: Gourmand

Fun fact about me: I’ve experienced both hi fi and wi fi in my lifetime.

Original post by Jansen Schmidt, October 2015. Photos courtesy Google Images.

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“There’s The Man.”

You’re probably wondering about the title. Well wonder no longer. This is another post about weirdo things my dad says and does.

It’s common knowledge that men don’t like to ask for directions. I’m not sure why. I’ve simply chocked it up to something being wrong with their genetic make-up and moved on. My dad, however, is polar opposite. He asks for directions even if he’s not lost. My dad takes this so far to the opposite extreme, it’s downright annoying and oft times embarrassing.

Photo courtesy Google Images

The only thing my dad will even try to find on his own, is a store clerk to show him where to find whatever it is he’s seeking. The photo above is no exaggeration. I recently accompanied my father to Home Depot – because that’s where he shops (yet strangely knows where nothing is located) – because he needed some lumber to construct something, no doubt another addition to his “shop.” In case you missed it, here’s the post about my dad and his “shop.”  https://jansenschmidt.wordpress.com/2014/06/16/my-dads-four-favorite-words/

I think I can say with a reasonable amount of certainty, that most of you, dear readers, have been inside a Home Depot. You kind of know how it all works. But, in case you are unfamiliar, when you get inside there are things that look like this to help you navigate through the aisles:

Photo courtesy Google Images

That’s right – those are big orange signs. Granted, it’s sometimes hard to find some obscure things, but, let me remind you, my dad was looking for lumber. Pretty common item that a lot of people purchase at Home Depot. The Home Depot in my home town, has devoted about one third of their store to lumber and lumber products. It’s not hard to find lumber, you need only step inside and sniff. But, if the powerful smell of freshly cut wood is not enough to guide you into the general proximity, you can simply look up (see photo above). Ah yes, there it is – big sign – lumber. My vision isn’t 20/20 and yet, strangely I can find the lumber aisle.

Well, apparently these two factors combined are still not clue enough for my dad to find his way to the lumber department – an area he frequents often. Nope. He doesn’t even try. Instead, upon securing his gigantic industrial-sized shopping cart, he pushes his way through the sliding doors, stops, looks around until he finds someone – anyone -wearing an orange apron and says, “There’s the man.”

“The Man.” Photo courtesy Google Images

Now, you all know me pretty well by now, so let me add a side note here. The first words out of my mouth are “What man?” To which my dad says, “the man in the know.” Because apparently the signs are decoys, meant to distract not help and cannot be trusted. You must actually ask a human in order to know where things are located.

My dad proceeds to run-down the poor clerk who is trying valiantly to help some other customer in the, oh say, garden department, before loudly interrupting – with a finger shake for emphasis – “where can I find pressure treated four-by-four posts?”

“Probably in the lumber department, Dad,” I reply with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s at the other end of the store. Same place it was yesterday.”

The clerk smiles, politely excuses himself from the first customer to confirm what I’ve just said.

Photo courtesy Google Images

And so off we go to the other side of the store, where I’d already been headed when we entered. But wait – there’s more. We reach the first aisle of lumber-type products and my dad stops, again doing the crazy head-swinging thing, until he finds – that’s right – another employee in an orange apron. “There’s the man I need to see,” says my dad as he whisks his cart down the aisle, an aisle two aisles from the pressure treated four-by-fours. Had we just gone a few more steps . . . .

I reluctantly follow. We repeat the process, only this time, my dad manages to coerce “the man,” otherwise known as the poor dumbfounded clerk, into walking with us, two more aisles over, to the things my dad needs. Then my dad says, “How much are they?”

Well, again, I can’t control the sharp retort that flies out of my mouth. “Probably should look at the tag, Dad.” The one affixed directly on the support beam holding the wood up. Again, for those of you not familiar with this store, here’s how one would know a price in Home Depot:

Photo courtesy Google Images

My dad must think those dangling white tags with dollar signs and numbers are for purely decorative purposes. After all, why would a store bother to put prices on things?

Finally with lumber secured on cart, we head off for the cash register. But wait – yes there is more – he remembers he needs something else.

Oh Dear God just shoot me.

Again we head for the big center freeway aisle, blissfully happy in not knowing about (ie ignoring) the overhead signs directing us to where we need to go, instead searching frantically for someone – anyone – wearing an orange apron. “There’s the man,” cries my dad, clasping the arm of an aging gentleman working in the flooring department. “I need a handle for my paint roller,” says my dad.

Well of course (slaps head), let’s ask someone in the flooring department.

“Did you look in the paint department?” politely asks the clerk, using his hand to motion us toward said department.

“Oh God no, that would be too easy and then we’d have no reason to bother you,” I say – in my head.

My dad thanks the man as if he’s just unveiled some ancient secret about how to live forever before we head over to the department directly under the huge orange sign that says – wait for it – paint.

Photo courtesy Google Images

This time I rush ahead hoping to locate said item before any more employees are dragged away from their duties to help some bumbling old man who obviously hasn’t got a brain in his head. “Victory,” I nearly shout aloud, tossing the handle on top of the lumber.

As we approach the cash register – no self-check out for us – my dad says, “There’s the lady.”

I”m about to say “what lady?” just to be a smart ass, but stop myself just in time. Pay for the stuff and run.

And that, my friends, is how my dad conducts all of his business, whether at Home Depot, the grocery store, Wal-Mart, you name it. My dad asks for directions first, every – single – time.

Gotta love my dad, though. I wish I could say he belongs to someone else, but I’m too much like him for that to be believable. We’re both stubborn, we both like to do things our way, and we both have a strong penchant for beer.  (Shut up Corey.) I love him, my dad. I really do. He’s “the man.”

Okay, now it’s your turn. What annoying behavior from a relative bothers you? Come on – spill it. I won’t tell. We’re all friends here.

Word of the Day: Umbo

Fun fact about me: I can find my way around a Home Depot store without asking for directions.

Original post by Jansen Schmidt, July 2014. Photos courtesy Google Images.

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