I should have mentioned that my dad and stepmom, Big Ron and Michele, arrived Tuesday night for a two -week visit to The Capital (That’s what the cool kids call London. The rest of Europe is called The Continent. You’re welcome.).
To love a family member is to know a family member. Which is why Bryan and I spent various moments over the last 7 months saying to each other “oh we haaaave to bring my dad here” or “this is perfect for your dad”. These comments primarily follow a glimpse of a ship involved in an important historical naval battle, a store that sells full body armor from the 15th century, or a shop selling 800 types of chutneys, pates, terrines and sausages. My dad also loves cold weather for some reason. His arrival, no matter where we live, always guarantees a freak cold spell or bizarre snowfall (it turns out Tuesday night’s snowfall here was the first in October since 1934). I called home from work yesterday to make sure Michele knew where to find the gloves and scarves in my flat. My father dismissed me, saying “oh but it’s very pleasant out.” Oh right I forgot: 40 degrees F is pleasant. WHEN YOU’RE A PENGUIN.
Dads are weird and magical.