Story 543: Trying to Call Out From Work on Father’s Day

             (On the phone)

Manager: Hi – what’s up?

Employee: Hi, yes, you’re never gonna believe this –

Manager: I bet I won’t.

Employee: –  but I would like to call out from work today, please.

Manager: Today is Father’s Day.

Employee: Yes, yes it is.

Manager: It’s the second biggest sales day for us after Christmas Eve.

Employee: I thought last time you said Mother’s Day was the second biggest sales day?

Manager: Turns out I was mistaken.  I’m big enough to admit I’m wrong when I’m caught.

Employee: Good on you.  Anyways, just letting you know, I’m taking today off.

Manager: No you’re not: you’re scheduled on alternating hours covering the front register and customer service desk to handle all the last-minute panicking guilt-ridden adult children.

Employee: I thought you might say that, so I counter that offer with my willingness to work on Labor Day instead, even though its very existence implies that I shouldn’t have to by law.

Manager: It’s not an offer; it’s the non-negotiable schedule that’s been up for weeks – don’t tell me you forgot to request off super-early again like you did for Mother’s Day?

Employee: …OK, I won’t tell you.

Manager: You’re a real piece of work.  And no one else can switch with you for today, is that it?

Employee: Would you believe me if I told you I forgot to ask anyone until this morning?

Manager: Yes.

Employee: Well, there’s your answer.

Manager: Then I’m not too sorry to say there’ll be no last-minute saves with shift-switching today like we were able to pull off last time, so you’re stuck working most of the afternoon and all night.  I pity your dad, you know: there’s no way you’re calling out today unless you send over a doctor’s note that you’re violently ill within the next 20 minutes.

Employee: A doctor’s note, eh?  <COUGH-COUGH>

Manager: And don’t think I won’t be able to tell if it’s something you just whipped up on your home computer.

Employee: Oh.  I retract those coughs, then.

Manager: So you’re still coming in today, yes?

Employee: (Sighs) Unfortunately, although it pains my very soul to do so, yes I’m still coming in today.  I just will have to tearfully explain to my beloved father that his beloved child has been forced by a cruel manager and the unfeeling forces of capitalism to spend precious hours serving idle consumerists instead of showing my appreciation of him being the World’s #1 Dad, that’s all.

Manager: Wonderful.  I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but if it’s any consolation he can commiserate with my father on what awful children they have.

Employee: How so?

Manager: I lost track of the Sundays in June and wound up scheduling myself today, too.

Story 446: Best Father’s Day EVER!

 (In a living room, Dad is reading a newspaper)

Dad: (Chuckling at the comics section) So corny, but still tickles my funny bone.  (Phone rings; Dad glances at the caller ID, smiles, and answers) Hey kiddo, what’s up?

Adult Child 1: So, the gang and I were talking –

Dad: Uh-oh.

Adult Child 1: No, it’s all good: we were talking about Father’s Day coming up and we decided this year we want to give you the Best Father’s Day EVER.  That last bit was in all caps, by the way.

Dad: Aw, honey, you know every year is the best Father’s Day.

Adult Child 1: You’re legally obligated to say that the moment you produce offspring!

Dad: …What?

Adult Child 1: Thanks for being sweet and all, but how many buffet brunches and backyard barbecues and banal bacchanalias can you suffer through before standing up and shouting “Enough is enough!”?

Dad: But I like all those things.

Adult Child 1: I’ll permit you to maintain the illusion; meanwhile, the gang and I purchased tickets for us all to go that day to Super Adventure Thrill-Ride Land, yay!

Dad: Oh!  Wow.  Thank you, that’s very nice of you all!

Adult Child 1: And it includes meals and any souvenirs you want; this covers your birthday too just so you know; we’ll pick you up at 8 a.m.; see you then; byeeeee!!!  (Ends the call)

Dad: (Places the phone back on the charger and stares out the window, gnawing on lip) Kinda wanted to watch the game that day.

 FATHER’S DAY

(Adult Child 1 pulls up the driveway of Dad’s house at 8 a.m. sharp, tooting the horn; Adult Children 2-3 are leaning out the car windows, waving wildly at Dad who was waiting by the front door)

Adult Children 1-3: HAPPY FATHER’S DAYYYYY!!!!  (Horn beep-beep-beeeeeps)

Dad: (Waves back at them, smiling broadly while muttering) Neighbors are gonna love me at this hour on a Sunday morning.  (Enters the passenger side and sits) Hey kiddos, thank you so much!

Adult Children 1-3: (Spinning noisemakers) Woooo-hoooo!

Adult Child 1: (While backing the car out of the driveway and embarking on the journey) Now, I checked the traffic and it’ll be bumper-to-bumper all the way there, so we should arrive just when the park opens at 10.

Dad: (As the car turns onto the highway and begins crawling to the jam-packed parkway) You timed it perfectly.

 TWO HOURS LATER

Adult Child 1: (Maneuvering the car through the tightly filled parking lot) All right everyone, keep your eyes peeled for a spot!

Adult Child 2: (Points) There’s one!

Adult Child 1: Sweet.  (Signals to turn, then shuts that off and keeps driving) Nope – no, there’s a compact car in there already.

Adult Child 2: Oh.  (Points again) There’s one!

Adult Child 3: Motorcycle.

Dad: (Points) There’re plenty of spots over there.

Adult Child 1: But those’re alllll the way at the back of the lot!  You’ll be exhausted by the time we reach the main entrance!

Dad: I’m exhausted just sitting here for two hours, so the five-mile walk’ll be a nice change.

Adult Child 2: (Points) Oooh, there’s one!

Adult Child 1: That’s a pedestrian crossing!

Adult Child 2: Oh.  Knew it’d be too good to be true.

 20 MINUTES LATER

(The car is parked in the last row and they all disembark)

Adult Child 1: Right: after many fake-outs, we finally found this charming slot that dear old Dad pointed out ages ago; I acknowledge it, and in hindsight should have dropped you all off closer to the front and caught up with you later; “I told you so”s are thereby nullified; let’s roll!  (Starts running to the main entrance)

Dad: Uh, honey?

Adult Child 1: (Stops and runs back) Yes, Father?

Dad: Father needs a slower pace.

Adult Child 3: So do the rest of us.

Adult Child 2: Yeah, we’ve been sitting in a cramped space for that long and my legs are just now getting feeling restored to them.

Adult Child 1: Acknowledged – don’t let this hiccup dampen your energy level, though!

Adult Child 2: Woo-hoo!

Adult Child 3: Yippee!

Adult Children 1-3: (Grab Dad by the arms and all four trot forward) Wheeee!!!!

Dad: <Gulp>

 30 MINUTES LATER

(On the mile-long line at the main entrance)

Adult Child 1: I don’t believe this!

Dad: What, that there’s a line?  The curse of an overpopulated species, I’m afraid.

Adult Child 1: No, I can’t believe that the line for those of us with pre-paid tickets is longer than the line for unprepared people who are paying now!

Dad: (Looks at both lines and shrugs) One of the great mysteries of life.

 50 MINUTES LATER

(The family emerges into the park proper)

Adult Children 1-3: (Arms raised in triumph) WOOOOO-HOOOOO!!!!!

Adult Child 1: We made it, at last!  (Turns to Dad) So!  What would you like to do first?

Dad: Bathroom.

Adult Child 1: Yeah, me too.  (All four run to stand on lines at the nearest bathrooms)

 20 MINUTES LATER

(The group regroups)

Adult Child 1: So!  What ride should we do first?  (Blank stares in response) All right, let me try this one instead: who’s got the map?

Adult Child 2: Uhhhh….

Adult Child 3: Uhhhh….

Dad: I saw while we were waiting out front that it’s all digital now and you can scan a QR code somewhere.

Adult Child 1: I can’t believe I missed that!

Dad: Understandable: last time we were here was in the 90s.

Adult Child 2: Ah, the 90s.

Dad: Yeah, and Mom was the one who took care of the logistics.

Adult Child 3: Ah, good old Mom.

(They all take off their caps and bow their heads for a moment, then put them back on)

Adult Child 1: All right, I’ll just scan a code then, ummm…. (Looks around a bit) Where is it?

Adult Child 2: (Points) There’s one!

(They run to a decorated column)

Adult Child 1: Nope, it’s a menu for this restaurant.

Adult Child 2: (Points) There’s another one!

(They run to another decorated column)

Adult Child 1: It’s the entertainment schedule for the day!  (Is tapped on the shoulder by Dad) Where did you get that?!

Dad: (Holding a laminated park map) They had some leftover at the information desk – wanna get lunch first?

Adult Child 1: But we’re missing out on maximum ride utilization!

Dad: The employee there told me wait times are at least half an hour, and I want my buffet brunch.

Adult Child 1: But of course.  (Takes the map and studies it intensely, tracing a finger over it) So, would you like burgers, or… pizza, or… burgers, or….

Dad: (Points to a spot on the map) I would like to go there, please: it’s towards the back of the place so it’s probably not too crowded and it’ll have pretty much the same food as any of the ones around here.

Adult Child 1: (Hands back the map decisively) Sure thing – let’s go!

(Adult Children 1-3 grab Dad by the arms and all four trot forward)

(At buffet brunch, the group enjoys their burgers and pizza)

Adult Child 1: So, you think we should wait a bit before going on a ride since we’re all stuffed?

Dad: (Slurps a soda and shakes head) Probably can go straight to it – the line wait’ll take care of the rest.

Adult Child 1: True.

(A random child in the restaurant has a meltdown and is escorted out by the parents)

Adult Child 2: Awwww, remember when we were like that?

Dad: Vividly: your mother and I didn’t have a true family meal out together for years because one of us always had to take at least one of you outside until the tears stopped.

Adult Child 2: Oh.  Sorry about that.

Dad: Don’t be; it comes with the territory.  Looking back on it, the whole thing seems kinda funny now.

 30 MINUTES LATER

(The group waits on line for a roller coaster)

Adult Child 1: You think we can take turns making bathroom runs while the others keep our place in line?

Dad: I thought you’d never ask.  (Zips to the nearest bathroom line)

Fellow Line Waiter: Hey, no fair!

Adult Child 1: Like you’ve never done it or wish you had!

Fellow Line Waiter: Yeah, all right.

(On the ride, the group is divided into two cars)

Dad: (With Adult Child 1 as they are buckled in by ride attendants) You know, I think it’s been literally decades since I’ve been on one of these things – I’m actually a little nervous.

Adult Child 1: Ah, I wouldn’t; these things are so tame they’re – (Is cut off as the ride accelerates to 100 mph in four seconds and they spend the next two minutes screaming)

(The four stumble off the ride with shaky legs)

Adult Child 2: That was great!  Wanna go on the one that’ll take us upside-down underground and underwater?

Dad: You can if you like – I’m going to the carousel.

Adult Child 1: Right behind you.

Adult Child 2: Isn’t that one more for kids?

Dad: Unless there’s a height or weight requirement, in this place we’re all kids here.

Adult Child 3: Wish my metabolism knew that.

(After a shorter wait in line, the four of them ride artificial animals on the carousel)

Dad: (Gently bobbing up and down on a “horse”) Ahhhh…. (Turns to Adult Child 1 on a “shark”) The premise is so simple, yet the joys are endless.

Adult Child 1: (Staring out in to space) Isn’t that the truth.

 HOURS LATER

(The four begin their trek back to the car as the sun sets; they snack on cotton candy, ice cream, funnel cake, and lemon ice)

Adult Child 1: So bad, and yet so good.

Dad: Such is life.  I’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but right now it’s bliss.

Adult Child 2: So Dad, was this the Best Father’s Day EVER?

Dad: (Chuckles) It’s certainly one of the more memorable ones, but every year is the best, kiddo.

Adult Child 1: Told you he’d say that.

Adult Child 3: So how’re we gonna top this next year?  Get here at 7:30 instead?

Dad: I have an idea for next year.

Adult Children 1-3: Yes?

Dad: You all come over to my place and we hang out at the pool all day long.

Adult Child 1: But we can do that anytime!

Dad: Yes, but since it’d be Father’s Day, you three will be doing the cooking.

Story 396: I Totally Remember What I’m Supposed to Give for Father’s Day

 (Relaxing on a hammock in the backyard, Dad answers a ringing cell phone)

Dad: Oh hi, what’s up?

Friend 1: Can’t a loving child call their father for no reason?

Dad: They can, but I’m going to see you tomorrow anyway so your call today piques my curiosity.

Friend 1: Yes, well, seeing as that’s Father’s Day and all, in the hustle-and-bustle of restaurant reservations and driving logistics and what-not, I realized I forgot to ask what you’d like as a gift.

Dad: No you didn’t.

Friend 1: What’s that?

Dad: You didn’t forget, you asked me when you had dinner here a few weeks ago, and I’d said then all you had to give me was –

Friend 1: Oh right, that!  Of course I remember, hustle-and-bustle, I was just testing you!  Silly.

Dad: Listen, it’s OK if you forgot, there’s a lot going on and we all have our moments as we get older –

Friend 1: Nope!  No, this isn’t a moment – I remember everything perfectly – I’ll go get to it right now – byeeeeee!!!  (Disconnects the call and flees out the front door)

Dad: (Stares at the phone in concern) Oh dear.  I hope this doesn’t become a whole thing; it’s my day, after all, by gum.

(Meanwhile, Friend 1 drives to the local mall and tears through it in a tizzy with all the other last-minute Father’s Day shoppers)

Friend 1: (Plowing through a crowd in a bookstore) Outta my way!  (Scanning the displays) Military history?  True crime?  Biography?  Sci-fi Romance?  How could I have lived with this man the entire first half of my life and not know what he likes?!  (A thought hits the cranium) Oh – maybe he actually said he wants a new wallet.  (Plows through the crowd to the nearest department store and scans the displays)  Leather?  Pleather?  Or did he really want a tie instead?  (Feels a tap on the shoulder and spins around) What are you doing here?

Friend 2: I could ask you the same thing: you never go to the mall.

Friend 1: Well, I’m just like everyone else here today, another victim of holiday panic-shopping – you?

Friend 2: I had to order my gift and pick-up was today.

Friend 1: Why didn’t you just ship it home?

Friend 2: I like to support my local superstore.  Need any help picking out something?

Friend 1: Nope!  No, I know exactly what I’m getting; just trying to decide on size – color – shape – molecular structure –

Friend 2: Did you forget what he asked you to get him?

Friend 1: …I am neither confirming nor denying that.

Friend 2: You can ask him again, you know; he’ll understand.

Friend 1: But I won’t!

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: I can’t have forgotten something like this, it’d just be so stupid!  So I’m going to keep looking at random objects until the memory obediently bobs back up to the surface of my drowning brain and I can snag that sucker once and for all!

Friend 2: Or you could confess all and get him a generic gift card.

Friend 1: Never!

 FATHER’S DAY

(At a restaurant, Dad, Mom, and Friend 1 have brunch)

Dad: I think I’m going to go all out today and order French toast and a Western omelet.

Mom: Go right ahead: it’s a holiday, so the stomach pains don’t count.

Dad: Good point – maybe some of that will be to-go.  (Nods at a large bag on the floor by Friend 1’s chair) So, what’ve you got there, sport?

Friend 1: Well, I was thinking, since your birthday and other gift-giving holidays’ll be here before you know it, why not just skip the wait and give them all to you now?  (Dumps various-sized wrapped presents onto the table) Happy Everything, Dad!

Dad: Wow, that’s swell, thank you!

Friend 1: You’re welcome!  (Slumps slightly in relief)

Dad: (Grabs a present and begins unwrapping it) You do know, since the three of us hadn’t eaten out together in so long, all I’d asked you and your mother for today was a nice Sunday brunch, right?

Mom: (To Friend 1) You were very vocal in your relief at the lack of effort involved.

Friend 1: (Eyes widening in final remembrance) I’m starting to recall such a conversation occurring.

            Dad: (Puts on the tie he unwrapped and grabs another present) It’s OK – you’re young yet, so it’s only downhill from here, kiddo.

Friend 1: (Starts to reach out to take back the present) Well wait, we should save these for later this year then –

Dad: (Holds present to his chest) Nope!  No, I’m opening these now, this is my day!  You’re set for the rest of the year.

Friend 1: But I can’t not get you anything when those days come up, I’ll feel like I forgot again!

Dad: Don’t make this a whole thing!

Story 298: I Never Knew I Needed That in My Life Until I Saw It

            In an all-things store, Shopper wandered up and down the aisles looking for one last item to pick up so that the store’s gift card could finally be finished off and she would never have to go there again.  At the end of the next-to-last aisle there was a small table display that Shopper casually glanced at, then did a double-take as one of items caught her eye.  She slowly and reverently picked it up to hold it closer to her face and read the description.

            “This,” she said after a few moments.  “This.”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“What is this?” her father asked from his seat at the kitchen table, picking up the box with neither reverence nor care.

“This,” Shopper replied, snatching the box back, “is a chair.  An all-purpose, full-support, transport-anywhere, sit-anywhere chair.  It folds up in itself so that you can literally tuck it into your pants pocket.  And it’s endorsed by the Army, so there you go.”

“OK, but why?”

“Because they use it maybe?”

“No, I mean why buy it?  What do you need it for?”

“The question you should be asking is, ‘What don’t you need it for?’”

“No, I’d rather hear an answer to the first one.”

“All right: everything!”  She spread her arms to encompass the world and nearly dropped the box in the process.  “I mean, who knows if you’re out somewhere and find yourself thinking, ‘If only I had a chair to sit down on, then all would be well.’  Now, you can have one, ready to go, AT ALL TIMES.”

“I guess, but how often do you think you’ll find yourself in need of a chair?”

“Often enough!  I’m tired of holding up the wall everywhere I go!”

“I doubt you need to that much.”

“Once is too many!  You don’t realize how this seemingly innocuous impulse buy has changed my life!  Observe.”  She pulled the folded-up chair out of the box, flicked it open, snapped the supports into place, and gingerly settled onto the no-backed canvas seat.  “I’ll never have to stand again.”

“Whatever – it looks uncomfortable.”

“It’s built for efficiency not comfort, Dad!”

“I guess.  Can I try it out, then?”

“Sure.”

She stood and her father gingerly sat on the canvas seat.  “Huh,” he commented.

“You see?”

“It could come in handy, I guess.  I do go to a lot of concerts – yes, I think this would do just fine for those – ”

She yanked the chair out from under him; he stumbled but remained on his feet.  Quickly folding up the chair and running upstairs, she shouted down to him: “Get your own super-convenient previously unknown necessity, poacher!”

He settled back onto the kitchen chair.  “Dangit, now that I’ve seen it, I need one.”