There was this one day when I was one or two years old when I really tested my dad's patience. I used to get creative around the house all the time. This is how children test their boundaries and learn about their surroundings. If I see my parents sticking video cassettes into the VCR, I am also curious to know if the machine also has a craving for jam sandwiches. I mean, it was clearly eating the video cassettes because it was hungry, right? That experiment was not the patience trigger though.
It was a sunny afternoon when the sun was shining through the curtains brightly. My dad was taking a nap in the living room and I was crawling around under the coffee table then on the arms of the couch. I managed to crawl up to the cushion top on the back of the couch where my dad was sleeping but I was an infant and the weight of my body didn't affect his sleep in the least. There was no warning for the trauma that he was about to endure. He was dead asleep, flat on his back and I happened to find the perfect spot for a comfortable landing from where I was flying. POOF! I jumped onto his stomach, feet first like a true gymnast. How fun.
He says he swore so loud and looked up at me with every intention and instinct to raise his hand and hit me as hard as he possibly could. He still tells this story with a big smile on his face because he didn't hit me. He couldn't hit me, he said. When he looked at me, I was just laughing like everything was wonderful and I was having the best time. Dad, I still am.
YOU ARE READING
This one time...
Short StoryI love my family. More in retrospect and from a few cities away in my twenties, but even up close and personal, I love my parents and my grandmother. At the end of my life, or even after a few quick keystrokes into my laptop in these moments, I woul...