Oh y'all. My poor Daddoo.
So my dad has a herniated disc in his back, and it's been giving him excruciating pain for months now. I KNOW! Not funny at all. So he went in for surgery yesterday, and after MANY HOURS AH MAH GAH he came out of it fit as a fiddle (what, am I on Little House on the freaking Prairie now?) and insisting he was going to go home.
Hint: He ain't coming home for a few days.
For those of you who don't know my Dad, he's a very stoic person. He doesn't get emotional. Nope, he's way too cool for that. So cool, in fact, that this little exchange happened yesterday when I called the hospital room. (I know better than to come visit. Oh the shame!)
Me: Okay, dad, glad you're doing okay, I love you!
Dad: Yep.
Me: Love you!
Dad: That too.
Me: I LOVE YOU, DAD.
Dad: Yep. Me too.
That's when I gave up. You see, my dad's been teaching teenagers his whole adult life. He's learned to be cool. You should have seen him when I admitted I had never read "The Grapes of Wrath." THEN he got stern. THEN he showed an emotion. But telling my dad I love him? After major surgery? I get a "yep."
Anyway, I'm sure he's over at the hospital giving everyone shit cause he can't come home today. Because he's a pain in the ass. He's also my Dad, and I love him to bits.
Yep.
