Showing posts with label Chair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chair. Show all posts

Thursday, August 11, 2011

#45: Duct Tape

Crap. My binder finally snapped in half. How am I supposed to carry my notes now? You’ve tried that rebinding glue and other mechanisms, but nothing seems to hold the binder together. Before you can even ask Dad for help, he already has the solution. You hear that familiar strip and hiss sound come from the other room. “Good as new,” Dad states matter of factly and slides your binder towards you. The binder is held together and very sturdy, except there is a silver binding now. “Dad, what did you do to this?”

“Duct tape kiddo. It can do anything.”

And that is exactly what Duct Tape is to Dad. When elbow grease and a love tap isn’t enough to do the job, Dad pulls out the miracle that is Duct Tape for his repair. He uses it for fixing school supplies because school supplies have to last the entire year. Duct Tape can repair the bumper from Dad’s car you knocked off. “It’s just a new paint job,” Dad reasons as to why Duct Tape is a better solution than going to the mechanic.

Duct tape is all Dad needs for his tool-box and utility belt. It can stop leaks, repair rips, and even act as a second wallet (google duct tape wallet). Dad sees Duct Tape as his go to gizmo. It helped His Chair last an additional 10 years. It added an extra layer of warmth to His Coat when the seams broken in the winter of ’89. You simply know duct tape as the surrounding that held together your old sneakers, and you were allowed to draw on it so that was cool. Dad knows Duct Tape for its all-encompassing glory. In Dad’s eyes, there isn’t anything Duct Tape can’t do. And so far, you can’t prove him wrong.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

#15 The Bathrobe

Its Sunday. So you can guarantee stumbling out of bed into the living room to see Dad in His Chair uncomfortably holding up the fully opened newspaper that he stole from the neighbors. "Morning Dad" you mumble out. "Well look who is finally awake..." he sings, bringing down his newspaper revealing Dad's chosen attire for the day: The Bathrobe.

The Bathrobe is the Dad's snuggie. It provides comfort and warmth to the whole body while allowing mobility. Dad is able to fully relax in it because let's face it, Dad was running around all Saturday doing errands for mom. Sunday is Dad's day. And Dad is gonna be comfortable gosh darnit! Unlike mom who simply wears the bathrobe to and from the bathroom for her shower, Dad absorbs the bathrobe as his skin for the day.

And yes, it is appropriate for Dad to wear the bathrobe in the morning. Does this mean I get one of Dad's absurdly large breakfasts??? But then 3pm rolls around and you notice Dad is still in the Bathrobe. This is Dad's day.

Dad will wear the bathrobe regardless of what he has to do today. Reading the newspaper in the bathrobe, watching the game in the bathrobe, cooking breakfast in the bathrobe, supervising you washing his car in the bathrobe, helping you shift the tables on the deck...in the bathrobe. You get the picture. That Bathrobe is not coming off today.

And because of it Dad, we wear our sweats and hoodies as our comfort clothes because we understand we don't appreciate the wonder of The Bathrobe quite yet.


Sunday, January 30, 2011

#5 His Chair


The living room is a sacred place of gathering. It usually marks the time of bonding between the family, friends and guests. Holiday gatherings, sporting events or family announcements mark a reason to come together in this area. There is always one constant about these family congregations...where Dad sits.

It's the chair off to the side of the room that still has the indented butt mark in the cushion. It may have some torn and worn down spots on the corners. It doesn't match anything else in the room and its recliner needs some extra push to work. Don't you dare sit there. This is Dad's Chair.

If anyone is sitting in it by mistake, he or she will quickly get up once Dad enters the room. Dad will not hesitate to make a mockery of your friend who is over for the first time and sat in the chair. Not cool, friend.

This is Dad's sanctuary spot. He reads in it, watches TV in it, falls asleep on a Sunday afternoon in it. There is almost an invisible bubble that surrounds it. Do Not Enter. After long days at work, Dad has been known to sit in it while waiting for dinner. He just needs to unwind. The Chair is shaped to his body and understands the exact comfort he needs.

You've tried to sneakily sit in it a few times when nobody was home. It is pretty comfortable. But beware, Dad knows when someone else has sat in it. And He isn't happy about it. There are other chairs in the room, so why don't you sit in this? "Why doesn't Dad sit in another chair?" You ask. You just got grounded. And to get over the stress of having to punish you, Dad needs to go relax in his Chair.