The dog

13 Jan

Yes, I realize I haven’t posted in 3 months. Am I sorry? No, I’m not sorry. I got promoted in October to a position that probably saved me from quitting my current job and then launched me into a whirlwind of advertising planning season that increased my already anxious heart into a full speed sprint.

But I’m not complaining, seriously. That promotion saved me.  It kept me from quitting right when I was planning to move to Austin. When I called my Mom, her first words were “Maybe God has a different plan for you…”  and I agree.

I love Austin. It is an amazing city. But I don’t need to be there right now. I need something new. I always do. My lease is up March 7. I’ll be moving out of my 2 bedroom apartment with my long-time-high-school-favorite-friend Rachel to a place borderline downtown/deep ellum. I’m going to miss her crazy, ADHD ass more than you can ever imagine. But living by myself, in a new part of town, is when I flourish.

Moving to Dallas 3 years ago without any of my college friends was a choice I second guessed for an entire year. But then some of them moved here, and  I got comfortable. I miss new places, new things, new beginnings, and I don’t need to move  more than 5 miles to remember that. I could move cross-country, but I just really love (re: NEED) my fam. Plus Texas has a plethora of guns and beef. YEA!

So I’ll be in Dallas for awhile. Probably a great while longer than “awhile.”

But the whole point of this post was to tell you exactly why I love Dallas-ish.

CASE 1: MY DAD.

There were times when I was a teenager when I questioned my father’s existence. And then I became an adult and realized that everything about him was so “Me” that I might die. DIE. This man has no shame. None. But he knows what is important in his life. He is the rock of our family, hands down. You have never met a more supportive, loving, “sorr about the crazy-ass offspring, ” individual.

Christmas: All 3 kids were home. We went to Taco Diner for Christmas Eve, Eve,  because in Southlake it’s half priced mambo Taxi Night and obviously no Standerfer would pass that up!

My Dad ordered 3 margaritas/mambos. By the third one, he starts to explain how much he loves peeing off the porch. The family, thinking he is laughing at a college story,  soon realizes that  he is talking about present day, peeing off the porch with my sister’s 110lb lab Boomer, who is home for the holidays. Apparently, Dad actually quite enjoys taking Boomer for a late night/early morning piss in the back yard. Because good old dad is peeing right off the back porch with him. According to him, Boomer is pee-shy and needs a push (Um, no). Like turning on the faucet. Except my dad is the faucet.

Just some quality time between the guys . NBD.

And it’s not a secret, or an ashamed habit. By his standards.

My mother was appalled  (I think only because we have many Indian neighbors WITH CHILDREN who appreciate and promote covering up), but I can’t say any of us were shocked.

At that point we ordered the check. My parents are regulars. We don’t need people hearing about how when it’s cold outside “it’s fun to watch the steam rise off the grass.”

Welcome to the Standerfer Family. Can’t do much about your Dad peeing off the porch. If he’s doing this now I can’t even imagine the things he will do and say when he’s 80.

Happy belated holidays!

And for the record, No. You cannot have my Dad. He is awesomely mine and I will not give him up.

Advertisements

2 Responses to “The dog”

  1. Becky January 15, 2011 at 12:21 am #

    Hilarious!! and so classic that he won’t be mortified by this being in your blog. Love to read your stuff – keep it coming.

  2. Justine April 9, 2013 at 11:50 am #

    It’s nearly impossible to find educated people for this topic, but you seem like you know what you’re talking about!
    Thanks

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: