Dad

Sometimes my dad calls me and counsels criticizes me, or whatever. It's not on purpose. Mostly he just disagrees with every decision I've ever made. (Can you blame him?) He just likes to continue to mold me, even now that I'm all growed up. I don't mind it at all, I tell you what, I'm just happy he calls. 

Anyway, the other day I told him, "It's OK dad. I already know you love me because you called. You don't have to say anything nice."

Oh how we laughed.

"You have to come now, or be one of them dummies. One of them city people. Look at your cement blocks. Look at your empty cans of beer. The money. And go clubbing. And don't worry about the Lady's Slippers. Why worry about it? Right?"