Lorelai Gilmore’s Got Nothing On Dad

I’m visiting my parents for a few days. It’s just after eight in the evening. My dad and I are watching the news and my step-mum is half watching, half doing a crossword puzzle. The time is important, because around eight in the evening is when my dad wants coffee, and when I’m visiting, he has a habit of expecting me to make it. It was just the two of us for a long time when I was a teenager, and he made a private game of finding more creative versions of saying, “[My Name], go make me a coffee!”. Examples of what he came up with: saying, “Yes, I’d love a coffee. Thanks for the offer, [My Name]!”; asking, “Where’s my coffee?”; or texting me, “Coffee!!” when I was in my room.

Today, he surpasses himself. It starts with Mum asking for help with her puzzle.

Mum: “One of the Gorgons, six letters?”

Me: “Medusa.”

Mum: “Yes, that would fit.”

Dad: *Pointing at me* “Drink of the gods, usually served at eight.”

I think, “What is he talking… Oh!”

Me: “You want coffee?”

Dad: “You got it!”

Mum bursts out laughing and I throw up my hands.

Me: “That’s it! That is definitely the most original version of, ‘[My Name], go make me a coffee,’ you can come up with. You’re not going to top this! Peak Dad humor achieved!”

Knowing him, he’ll take it as a challenge.