August 10th: moo-ing

8/10/09

Dad and I are sitting on the couch being hot, when he starts to make these odd sounds. They kind of sound like a cow moo-ing, so I moo, too. Dad stops for a minute and says, admiringly, “hey, you can really do it.” Then we sit there and moo together until we run out of steam.

Dad has found my notebook again and wants to know what’s in it. I read him a list of things to take to Gay Pride, “lollipops, sunblock, water, paperwork, bananas, phone, keys.” He’s impressed. “Does everybody have a book like this?” “Just people who have to remember a lot,” I tell him.

“I’ve just been sitting here here here here and there there there there, here there, here there, dee dah doo doo doo,” says Dad about his day’s activities.

I tell Dad that Kate S. had to go to the ER last night with high blood sugar and he is worried. Trying to reassure him, I get her on the phone so they can talk. “Then you’re alive, you’re inspected, you’re OK,” he tell her, relieved.

Dad decides to make fun of his eternal confusion about Brianna’s gender. “Kate and Brianna, they’re both male, right?” he says to Kate S. on the phone. When she starts correcting him, he says, “I know, I’m kidding,” and grins at his own joke.

“What are you doing?” Dad asks me. “I’m not doing anything, I’m just lying here on the couch,” I respond to Dad, who is right beside me. “That’s about what I’m doing, too” he says.

“Do you think the cat’s going to try to pile more meat on you?” Dad asks. I don’t even try to figure this one out. The cat is hiding under the bed.

I’m trying to prep Dad for our trip to Gloucester, going through all the things we’re going to do. When I get to drinking moxie, a soda that’s not available most places, Dad brightens up. “I remember Moxie from when I was a kid,” he says.

Dad wants to know if Charlie is going to be in Gloucester and is surprised when I say no. “I thought he was part of the island,” he says.