A couple of weeks ago, my dad was in town from California. We had dinner at my apartment, and it was basically the best night ever. My brother, Max, came, too, and we had dinner and played a board game. Eating dinner with one's dad and brother is not typically how one would describe the best night ever, but I hadn't seen my dad in almost a year & a half, so that is exactly how I would described the best night ever.
I ask my dad earlier in the evening if he wants directions to my place, and he just asks which way he should turn at the flag. I'm a little alarmed that he's already on my street, because dinner is far from finished, but then he tells me that he is looking at the complex on Google. Oh, Dad. Why can't we all be that competent?
I'm making the final dinner preparations and waiting for my phone to ring. My apartment complex is really big, and people never manage to park & find my unit without at least one phone call, Google or no Google. Then, my cats are running to the window, indicating that a visitor is coming. I look out the window and, sure enough, it's my dad! He's carrying a house plant, a card, and a huge smile. He found my apartment without a single call! My dad can totally beat up your dad.
He gives me my gift, and we hug probably three times. He tells Max, "I didn't get you anything, cos you're a dude." It feels so good to hear my dad {the original "dude"} say "dude" again.
We sit down to eat our dinner of spaghetti, eggplant cutlets, and some seriously burned garlic bread. Max pretends to like burnt bread and chokes down almost half a slice. He's incredibly polite like that. I, of course, give my dad the least burnt piece. I fill his water almost obsessively. They both sprinkle Mexican shredded cheese on their spaghetti. Dad light-heartedly tells me that all it's missing is meat.
We catch up on everything. How's your job, Ari? Max is still coding. Aunt Shari's recovery from back surgery is miraculous. I find out that my dad has made about a million positive changes in his life. I can't help it- at this point, I'm beaming. I had been so worried that all the changes I'd heard about would mean that my dad would be so different now, that he would lose that Dad-ness that I always loved. He didn't. He is still so funny, so witty, and still gets me so much. His stories are still the best, his corniness the worst.
Dad looks around my whole apartment, complimenting every little thing. He clears the dishes and makes Max help, too. He tells me how well-behaved my cats are. I'm one kind word from asking him to move in.
Noah comes home from class & we pull out the board game Max bought me for my birthday. It's called The Game of Things, and it is wildly inappropriate and not family-friendly in the least. I am fairly certain Max bought it for just this reason.
We laugh at everyone's outrageous responses to the game's prompts. I think laugh is actually an understatement. In fact, I'm surprised I can even write this post right now with all the oxygen I deprived my brain of that night. My dad's responses alternated between lame and incredibly clever. Max's hardly ever varied from extremely raunchy. First, Dad was winning. Then me. But Max ended up winning by a landslide once it was over. Poor Noah never really stood a chance against the Marshes.
Noah wants to learn the guitar and, not to brag, but my dad is the best musician in the entire universe, so he gave Noah some tips on finding a good instrument. Dad even set him up with one of his musician buddies for free lessons. My dad can outplay your dad!
I texted Max after everyone had gone home: "That was the best night ever."
His reply: "It was better than two really good nights combined."
It really, really was.
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