Thursday, April 3, 2008

My Father's Name is Inigo Montoya

Here's a story about my Dad. As well as being a successful international business dude, a beekeeper, and a totally handsome devil, Dad is a prankster. He has a sense of humor that ranges across dry punditry, wry wit, slapstick, clever word plays, and whimsical silliness. On Christmas he gives himself gifts from women named "Eva," "Suzette," or sometimes "your girls at the Copa Cabana." (To be fair, he's invented a secret lover named "Fred" for my mom. He gives her presents from Fred and then pretends to be outraged.) He has recently hatched a plan to place small statues of Jesus throughout the woods on his land so that people going for walks or trail rides can "find God in the wilderness." Har dee har.

A couple of years ago, Dad was out on the tractor cutting the grass in the field. As he usually does, he'd pushed his glasses up on his forehead when he started to get sweaty. And, as has happened before, he completely forgot about them until much later when he went back up to the house and noticed they were gone. He went back out and looked all over, kicking around under trees where he thought maybe they'd gotten scraped off his head, walking the land, trying to find his glasses, all to no avail. They were gone. He got a new pair, but he never really stopped thinking about where in the heck those lost glasses had got off to.

Then one day a few months later, I got a phone call.

"Hello?"
"Hey there, how's it going?"
"Oh, fine. What's up with you, Pops?"
"Well, I've got the funniest story to tell you. Remember those glasses I lost last summer?"
"The ones you lost while you were mowing the grass?"
"Yeah. Well, last night I had a dream about them, and in my dream I saw exactly where they were."
"Whoa, weird! What'd you do?"
"Well, I went down there this morning and looked around. I'd looked there a million times, but in my dream I saw them there, right near that tree by the pond."
"Did you find them?"
"Not initially, but after I'd looked around for a minute I thought, you know, I just KNOW they're here! So I did what Inigo Montoya did in The Princess Bride."
"What?"
"You know, how he looks for the door to the Pit of Despair? I used my walking stick and held it up, closed my eyes, and said, 'Father, guide my sword!'"
I start laughing. "So what happened, Dad?"
"Well, it's the funniest thing, I walked around a couple of steps and opened my eyes, and there were my glasses, right at my feet!"
"You're shitting me."
"No, really! I couldn't believe it, either. I guess I'd mowed over them and they were really busted up. The lenses were shattered and the arms were all broken and twisted."
"So what'd you do with them?"
"Well, I took 'em back to Lenscrafters, cause they were still under warranty."
"WHAT?! Dad, you MOWED OVER THEM. I think that voids your warranty."
"Actually," he giggled (my dad only giggles when he's about to pull a fast one on somebody), "I guess it didn't. I just walked in and handed them to the lady and I said, 'These broke.'"
"What'd she say?"
"Nothing. She looked at me kind of funny, but they gave me a new pair."

I love my Dad.

6 comments:

Supna said...

I think I do too!! ;)

Alison said...

brilliant - i love whoever at Lenscrafters decided NOT to question the situation any further. great story! your dad sounds awesome and really temperate if he only blows up about "Fred" on holidays.

Cheasty said...

well, to be fair, there's a few other things he blows up about. he blows up at "who turned the heat up to 78 degrees!?!" and also, "why is every g.d. light in the house on?!?" but so do i, it turns out. is that genetic, i wonder?

M said...

Your dad is hilliarious! I love this story.

Lindsey said...

My dad used to do stuff like that, too. He's put a rubberband around the hose spigot of the sink and aim it just right so that whoever turned on the faucet would get sprayed right in the solar plexus. He laughed himself sick whenever someone got sprayed.(Then he'd forget it was there and get himself.) When I was really little, and we'd go out to Red Lobster, he'd extract his lobster meat carefully so that the shell stayed intact, and then every time I'd look away, he'd move the lobster shell closer and closer...
Our dads would probably appreciate each other.

Cheasty said...

i think you're right. some day i'll tell you about blowing straw papers out of his nose at the Bob Evans.

:)