Sunday, November 10, 2013

Sunday snippets

Number 1

My daughter Elvira, talking about a recent blog post: One of those was about me, wasn't it? Which one was it? I know one of them had to be about me.

Me: I said right in the post they probably weren't about anybody who would be reading it, didn't I?

Elvira: Yeah, whatever. Which one is about me? It's number 1, isn't it? That one's for me.

Me: No, not really. But how about 10 and 11? 10 and 11 can be about you.

Elvira: Yes, but number 1 seems like it fits me better.

Me: OK. Number 1 can be about you if you want. The truth is I wrote one to you, and then I deleted it.

Elvira: Why would you delete mine? Was it bad?

Me: I deleted it because 10 and 11 can be about you. I didn't want to write you an anonymous comment about ..... something.

Elvira: Oh my god. I know what you wrote about.

Me: I don't think it does any good to guess ....

Elvira: You wrote about my eyebrows, didn't you? You were going to send me an anonymous message about my eyebrows.

Me: Your eyebrows? No, I .... why would I write about your eyebrows?

Elvira: I know that's it. What else could it be? It has to be about my eyebrows.

Me: I'm dumbfounded that you think I would blog about your eyebrows.

Elvira: You're always saying I over-pluck them and the other day you said they looked like plastic because I've been drawing them on with a Sharpie. That has to be what you wrote about.

Me: Yeah, OK. You're right. I wrote about your eyebrows and then decided it was too personal and passive aggressive to say something like that on my blog.

Elvira: I knew it.

Number 2

Elvira, picking up a white card from my dresser: What's this?

Me: What's what?

Elvira: This card ...  Oh my god! Mommers! What the hell is this?

Me, finally looking: Oh, that. It fell out of my bra last night when I was getting undressed after the wrap party for that horror short I produced, Medicine. I still haven't figured out why I didn't feel it in there before I ....

Elvira: Mommers! Even for you this is kind of shocking. How did this get into your bra?

Me: Well, we were playing Cards Against Humanity ....

Elvira: What kind of game is that? Is that a sex game? Were you at an orgy?

Me: It's a card game. Look on the other side. We were playing Cards Aga ...

Elvira, turning the card over: Oh, I see. Nevermind. I don't think I want to know.

Me: It wasn't anything like you .....

Elvira: Nope. Doesn't matter. Next subject. Can I borrow this lipstick?

Me: I need to return that card to its owner.

Elvira: I said I don't want to know. I'm taking this lipstick.

Number 3

Elvira's beloved, Rock Dad, agree to play lead guitar with Joe and another bass player and me at church a couple of weeks ago for a big service. He shows up at my house for practice with a sweet red Gibson SG. (My dream guitar.)

Me: Where did you get that SG? Is that for me?

Rock Dad: No, this is mine. I got it for me.

Me: If I can't afford an SG, you certainly can't. You borrowed it from the store, didn't you? (He works part-time in a guitar store.)

Rock Dad: No, really, it's mine. I bought it from a junkie down in the Oregon District.

Me: How much? Can I buy it from you? You know that's my dream guitar, right?

Rock Dad: I paid him $10, and no, you can't buy it from me. I'm keeping it.

Joe: No way! I can't believe you paid $10 for any Gibson. You bought it from a junkie?

Rock Dad: Yeah, he said he needed money, and I said I'd give him $7. He took it.

Me: You paid $10 for a Gibson SG, and you're not going to give it to me? What kind of son-in-law are you going to be? That's just wrong. I rescind your invitation to Christmas.

Rock Dad: I really paid $7 for it, but I had to do some work on it so it came to $10.

Me: You don't want an SG, and I do. How about I trade you my Fender Strat? The pickup is broken on your Strat, and mine is perfect. That's fair. Back me up here, Joe.

Joe: I'm not getting into that, but that's an amazing deal on that guitar.

Rock Dad: I don't want your Strat. I just ordered a better pickup for my Strat.

Me: So you don't even need that guitar. You're going to be playing your Strat all the time. Plllleeeeaaaaasssssseeeee.....

Joe: That's a hell of a deal. I'm not sure if you're brilliant or evil.

Me, muttering as I give up and sit down at the piano: I think you're just selfish.

Rock Dad: I'm definitely evil.

Joe: I think maybe you're both.

Rock Dad: No, I'm just evil. If I were brilliant, I would have gotten his amp too.

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