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Bad Dads and Other Relative Insanity (Embarrassing Parent Stories)

By Tater Barley Banks | Comment Diversions | May 29, 2010 |

By Tater Barley Banks | Comment Diversions | May 29, 2010 |

Remember a couple weeks ago when Kayanne was all:

One time, when I was either in middle school or a freshman in high school, but at some point during my school years when my brother and I were not at the same school, my dad drove me to school. We get to the entrance of the neighborhood and our neighborhood faces the entrance to another neighborhood and we see these people standing around and cars are stopped in the road and we wondered what was going on.

At the sign for the other neighborhood, there was a fox. He was on his legs spasming and twirling around. I gasped and said, “I have to help him!” As was my bleeding heart wont. My dad shook his head and said, “Stay in the car. You can’t help him.” As soon as he said that, the fox dropped dead.

Everyone started to leave the entrances and Dad kept driving to school. I was almost shaking. My eyes were red and I was trying not to cry.

My Dad looked over at me and quietly asked, “Have you heard about the new dance craze?” I shook my head, but was grateful for the diversion. “What’s it called?”

“It’s called THE FOX!” And then he started spasming in his seat mimicking the fox to a tee. I was so pissed off and disgusted.

It was so inappropriate and infuriating, but I laughed anyway.


And then figgy was like

Here’s an idea for a Comment Diversion—Embarrassing Parent Stories. I have a feeling it’d be super popular.

Well, figgylove, here ya go.

I wish I had some weird parent stories to kick this off with, but … not many that I can remember. We were pretty damn normal, I guess, which is why I avoided therapy but also why I don’t have a best-selling tell-all memoir that’s been optioned.

There was the time my dad literally kicked my ass, for reasons that are too complicated and frankly stupid to get into here. The only other one I can conjure up: My dad played tuba in his high school band, and maybe because of that he could purse his lips and mimic the sound of a trumpet. He could play entire Sousa pieces like that. He was, frankly, amazing. My sister was dating a guy who, coincidentally, played the trumpet in HIS school band. One day this guy is at our house and my dad is downstairs, “playing” trumpet music, and my sister’s guy is astonished. “I didn’t know your dad could play too!”

Yeah. That’s all I got.


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