Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Daddy and me

Today was a good day.

My dad had the day off and everything fell into alignment. In other words, there was nothing to stop us from spending the day together. I rarely get to spend any time with my father. If we do spend time together, it's never just the two of us. My father takes a day off once every blue. Then one or more of the following occur:

- He has errands to run
- He actually only has the morning off
- My sister is with us
- My sister monopolizes all of his time or he spends the day with her instead (this one is the most common)
- He's tired and doesn't want to do anything (rarer, but it has happened)

This time was different. My sister was at school and wasn't getting out until just before she had to go to work. There were no errands.

We went out for breakfast. I took offense to our waitress asking my father if he wanted "fresas" with his pancakes. I took offense because we were clearly speaking English to her, so why ask if he wanted "fresas" instead of strawberries? Maybe I made something out of nothing, but it bothered me. Then I ranted about an article in the paper. "This is what's passing for writing these days!?" (as if I'm 80). "There are 3 different stories in this one article!" "Where the hell does this guy get off making these kinds of comparisons? Idiot!" "How is this man still writing and I can't even start!" And other such cute musings.

From there we went over to the nail salon. Yes, you read correctly. My dad and I went to the nail salon. He needed a manicure (don't judge) and wanted to reward my progressing recovery with a much needed pedicure. My toes, like my hair and other aspects of my physical appearance, were also victims of my emotional state. Mock me, if you must, for being a fan of pedicures and manicures (the latter only when I'm feeling supremely lazy or feel like being pampered to relieve stress). But let me tell you this. Real men are secure enough to get manicures/pedicures. Those wonderful Vietnamese women scrub, massage, and soak my troubles away. So now my toes look great again and the world is slightly brighter -- literally and figuratively.

Newly beautified, the two Hernandez men headed off to the mall. My parents are going to Mexico for my cousin's wedding (they normally wouldn't go, but the cousin in question is very close with my dad and they'd offered to pay for the wedding) and he needed some last minute things. We picked out a wedding present (a really nice picture frame). Gifts for the kids (I basically chose outfits that I would dress my kid ins. I'm sure you can imagine what kind of outfits I put together). And a shirt and tie combo for my dad. He needs to match my mother's dress, so I helped him pick out a slim-cut light blue DKNY dress shirt with an appropriately patterned matching tie. Wow. How gay do I sound (as if the part about the nail salon wasn't bad enough)? Nay, it is merely an exercise in applied knowledge (why read all those GQs and watch all those shows about fashion if I'm not going to use what they teach?).

And the piece de resistance: good food. We came back to the house and I prepared some filet mignon and shrimp. The shrimp were simply cooked and served on the side. The steaks (cooked medium-rare, of course) I marinated in a bath of Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, and garlic salt. Nothing takes the edge off like some delicious food, especially my comfort food -- steak.

Good day, indeed.


- R

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