So I've decided that my dad is just plain clumsy. This is true. It's been proven over time, it's just something that I forget. So far this trip he has...1. fallen onto sharp volcanic rocks and cut up his forearms. 2. jammed his hand with a dirty metal lock, cutting himself near a vien. 3. fallen backwards off a little rolling bench.
The miracle is that all his wounds are surface scratches only and that he doesn't break any bones.
He's scaring the shit out of me.
At this point, we're just laughing about it.
I'm trying to remind myself that he's always been clumsy. Yes he's 80. But really, that's not what this is, I tell myself. This is just him.
Meanwhile...as we go out...to Mass or to a restaurant, we encounter big shot politicians. (It's a small country.) So, after my dad recieves communion, he points out a man shaking the priest's hand. "Ese que va alla es el mas ladronazo de este pais!" (That guy over there is the biggest crook in this country!) Then in a restaurant he comments on someone named Teler, who apparently was the biggest opposition of Aleman, but is now Aleman's press person. This dude was apparently attacked by a diputado. They got into fisticuffs and he got a black eye and it was all over the news. "Que tal si me levanto y le doy en el ojo?" (What if I got up and hit him in the eye?)
Ahhhh, yes, my father amuses me.
Bye for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment