Faux pas

My dad is overweight. Though he was a skinny kid (or so his pictures appear!), he has gone up and down from thinnish to “well-fed” over the years. I remember a time as a teen when he couldn’t bend down to tie his shoelaces. And, I remember a time, when he was ill, when he was unbelievably thin. His closet is like Mens Wearhouse — name a size and it’s there.

All this is background to a disastrous end to tonight’s dinner. My parents came over. I made brisket. And challah. (What else would a good Jewish daughter make on Friday night?) After dinner, my blackberry buckle and 2 bottles of wine, my dad and Andrew sat chatting as I prepared to take Reed to a sleepover. Now I should back up a bit and tell you that my dad has had some serious back issues. He’s tried several non-invasive options. But he’s not right.

Okay, background covered. So my dad says to Andrew, “I think it’s time, I can’t take it anymore.” To which Andrew replies something (I didn’t catch the exact phrasing) about Gastro surgery. I gasped. My mother gasped. My father quickly corrected him. But how long do you think it will take my dad to forget that faux pas?

I don’t think we’ll live long enough.

Yikes.

Hope your weekend is starting out less stressful than mine…..