in addition to the rampant hysteria that has been plaguing both my aunt and sister, our father, never one to be picked last on the playground, has taken a running leap onto the slightly unbalanced bandwagon, commandeering it into the depths of dysfunction. ever since our neighbor (missy's bff-disco's protege-adopted&adoredbrother) taught disco how to play beerpong (prompting him to heckle boys half his age and cheer his daughter on from the sidelines, bringing back those wonderful days of CYO softball... 'come on little dude, you can't throw better than that?!') he has been unstoppable in the quest to bond with his two pride&joys. for father's day we got him to wear matching t-shirts with us and even do shots of limoncello in honor of missy's birth (nothing says italian american bonding quite like shots of alcoholic citrus fruit with coffee and sfogliatelli). this weekend, however, he has surpassed our quality time expectations.
after rebuilding the apartment that caught fire a few months ago in our family's building my dad has become quite close with the young tenant. he was explaining to me that her housewarming party is this weekend and that she invited he and our mother. i innocently asked, 'so what did mommy say?'
disco's response?
'your mother? pleaseeeee, she said no. i told her i don't care. my daughters will come with me! free wine?! you're there!'
after a quarter of a century of him worrying about corrupting our impressionable young minds, sissy and i have managed to do the opposite and turn our father into jim belushi.
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A buddy of mine loves his lemoncello. He hoards that stuff and insists that you can't buy it in the US. It's good, but not worth going crazy over.
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