|Blogs > rm_Pashun8Punk > Want to hear a story?|
I left you hanging there...sorry. I also have to step back a second. To truly give you a sense of a hero my father is to me.
When I turned three, my father threw a party for me. A few kids. A few relatives(absentees were from my mother's side). Lots of cake, ice cream, and all that crap kids like. It was fun(I have pics). It finished and folks went home. Late afternoon. Dad is fixing the Firebird. I'm playing w/my brother in the kitchen. Getting into leftover cake. Decide I need whip cream.
My brother sure can yell. My dad arrives in the kitchen at full throttle. I'm writhing on the floor - gasping. Smoke is actually coming out of my mouth. Dad notices the tipped over, lid-off-the-top bottle of Drano next to me. Not the liquid kind. You know - The crystalline kind. Solid Sodium hydroxide. One of the strongest bases known to man. It sure wasn't Dream Whip. Coincidence that they have the same colors on their bottles? Well, yeah. But I was three and couldn't read yet.
Dad is one of those people who never panics. And he knows everything. Everything he knows he knows how to use. He cares little for useless shit(he'd never read a blog, but we would all be a bit wiser if he wrote one) and truly is a manly man. Not water. Not milk. Dad gave me Milk of Magnesia(or how ever it's spelled). I kept tilting it back. My throat, esophagus and stomach semi-neutralized, my dad starts up his other ride. A comical looking Plymouth station wagon. Blue w/wood paneling and some pimped out rims. It looked a lot like the Munsters ride crossed w/the Mystery Machine and an old Woody(not a body part). But it hauled. Ass. And Dad blazes to the hospital. Dad's speed caught the attention of the local cops who first pull him over, then escort him. We arrive and the emergency staff is all ready for me.
Three operations and three weeks later and I'm back home. I think this an event that made my dad realize my brother and I needed a mom. Or he needed a vacation.