After a good rainstorm, Alisha loved to go out and tour from puddle to puddle in her bare feet, feeling warm water and cool mud squashing around her toes as she splashed the water here and there. The humid air of a summer storm hanging around her, the heat clinging to the day like a comforting hug. Alisha sometimes just sat at the edge of really big puddles and hung her feet in them, poking one foot then the other out of the water, all brown and dirty with mud.
After a June full of rain, the grass and dirt were almost always soaked, so Alisha was sitting on a concrete curb and letting warm gutter runoff sluice over her feet when her daddy came home from work that night.
I asked my dad, who knows everything
Published by NiteMayr on June 27, 2008I know my Dad, he knows football (the good kind), nuclear maintainence, 60s and 70s rock and pop, safety regulations, union politics and a bit about almost every other subject. I wouldn’t go posting on the internet about how I asked my dad (who is not a bona fide authority on anything) about said subject. I might say that I looked around some comedy blogs or science manuals or whatever, but not “I asked Dad, he says get stuffed“.
I am a Dad too. I pretend to know everything sometimes too. However, I like to think that I’ll admit when I’m stumped. I don’t want my kids or neices and nephews to think they can use me as an authority on anything save what I’m an expert on, and even then I’d like to think they’d lie and use a euphamism like “I asked a professional asshole, and he says you’re part of the club” or “I know an expert in social dissasspointment, he says that if you sucked any more at being in relationships you’d be looking to on Henry the 8th memoirs for advice”
Or something like that.