(My father grew up in a building designed to house both his family and the family’s print shop business. Not long after my grandfather passed away, the store was sold and turned into something else. We’re driving past the old shop one day when I notice the new sign over the building.)

Me: “Wait… You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s an adult video store now?!”

Dad: “Yep.”

(I instantly start laughing, as Grandpa was a bit of a perv, and he no doubt would’ve found this a most hilarious bit of fate.)

Me: “That’s almost like a tribute! I bet Grandpa would’ve gotten a big chuckle out of that!”

(Fast forward several years, and the adult store is eventually demolished to make way for a truck servicing station for semis. We’re driving past after dark one night, when I notice something odd.)

Me: “Hey, Dad? Do you believe in fate?”

Dad: “Wait, fate? What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, you know the truck station that they put up over the old print shop? The name of it is spelled out in giant, light-up capital letters, ‘[OWNER]’S WASH & LUBE SERVICE,’ but all of the words on the sign have gone out, except for one word: ‘LUBE.'”  

Dad: “Oh, geez.” *starts chuckling*

Me: “I can’t help but think Grandpa just sent us a sign.”

(My dad is an immigrant and a visible minority. Given his age, he’s also out of touch with modern pop culture. He goes by the name “Timothy” for the sake of convenience. Usually, it’s his coworkers, bosses, and acquaintances who call him by this name.)

Dad: “So, I have a nickname at work.”

Me: “Really? What do they call you?”

Dad: “They call me Tim or Timmy.”

Me: “Dad, that’s nothing new. Many people named Timothy are called those names.”

Dad: “Okay, but the people who call me Timmy say it in a really weird way.”

Me: “Weird, how?”

Dad: “They usually shout it loudly, with a raspy tone. Like, ‘TIMMAAAAAAY!’ They also flail their arms around, for some reason.”

(I almost lose my composure from his demonstration, which is very uncharacteristic of him.)

Me: “Uh, wow, that is weird.”

Dad: “I’m not sure why they do this specific action. And it’s not just one person; it’s actually several people doing this.”

(I’m still not sure if I should tell him about South Park. I’m afraid that it’ll raise more questions than answers.)

(My mom is the type of person who only seems to ever listen to half the words in a sentence.)

Me: “[Coworker] is really bummed that her son had to move away to find work.”

Mom: “What does he do?”

Me: “He’s trying to get a job as a welder, but the shop in town won’t hire him because he just finished his apprenticeship and therefore has no ‘professional’ experience.”

Mom: “Why doesn’t he get an apprenticeship?”

Me: “He did.”

Mom: “Then how come no one will hire him?”

Me: “Because they want someone with more experience.”

Mom: “Then why doesn’t he move somewhere else where they will hire him?”

When I was ten years old, my parents decided we were going to the beach the following weekend. Mom and I went shopping for toys to take with us and I wound up getting my first ever boogie board. I’d seen other kids use them at the beach on a previous trip and I was super excited to finally have one of my own.

We got to the beach, set up our spots, and I hit the water, paddling on my brand-new boogie board. In my excitement, I wound up going further than I normally would and turned back to the shore where Mom was, to see how far out I had gotten. It turns out I was far enough to not to be able to hear Mom yelling at me, but close enough to make out what she was doing. I saw her waving at me. I waved back, thinking Mom was saying, “Hi.” She kept waving, and so did I; I wasn’t a very bright ten-year-old, apparently.

Then she pointed in my direction.  

I turned around to see a series of fins circling behind me. I knew what that meant, and swam as fast as I could back to shore.

When I was in middle school, I was watching a TV show with my dad. It had Penn and Teller in it and had some rough language, but I found it funny and begged to watch it with him. My mom has always felt strongly about that kind of language, so she was less than pleased.

Eventually a line came up that included the words, “litigious motherf*****s,” and my mom put her foot down. I tried to insist that I wasn’t learning any new words from the show, so it wasn’t a big deal. My dad turned to me and asked, “What does ‘litigious’ mean?”

I didn’t know. I didn’t get to watch the show anymore.