Waterproof, Not Dad Proof

Just recently had another stupid interaction with my dad, I’m the same OP from these stories.

So, spring in Minnesota isn’t consistent, temperature-wise. Some days are very cold. Some days are very hot. Very few days are a nice, comfortable middle-of-the-road temperature.

The last couple of days were very hot, in the mid-80s and low 90s. Today is very cool, in the high 40s and mid 50s.

My dad comes to visit somewhat unexpectedly. He calls ahead of course, but… I only get maybe a day or two’s warning.

My initial plan assumes a warm day. We’re both fairly outdoorsy people, so I make a plan for us to hike together in a nearby state park. Unfortunately, as mentioned previously, the weather changes. On the day of, it’s chill and damp.

Now, over the phone, I’d discussed my preliminary plans to go hiking with Dad. Now he’s here in front of me. We’ve just finished breakfast together.

Me: “It’s going to be a little chilly all day, so I no longer recommend hiking. Would you like to go to the zoo? Or maybe a museum?”

He’s not as ‘into’ these activities as hiking, but they’re things both of us enjoy.

Dad: “I’ll be fine. You talked about hiking over the phone, so I’d like to go do that.”

Me: “It’s going to be cold. Do you have a jacket?”

Dad: “I’ll be fine. That park you told me about sounds fun. Besides, you said it was about an hour and a half drive. The day should warm up by then.”

Me: “The day’s not going to warm up. It’s going to be chilly. There’ll be damp all day. Please make sure you have a jacket.”

Dad: “I’ll be fine. Let’s go hiking together like we used to when you were a kid.”

I thought to myself, “This is going to be more like when I was a child than you’ll expect”. In the past, I’d been uncomfortable all day from bad hiking clothing choices before I’d learned how to dress appropriately. I guess it’s Dad’s turn.

I get dressed in my jacket, which is waterproof, and a hat with ear covers, as my ears often get very cold.

Dad: “Do you have to wear that hat? I’ll be embarrassed to be seen with you! It’s overkill.”

He always says this when I wear something that covers my ears.

Me: “My ears get very cold even in weather you think is warm, and you don’t get to police my clothing choices anymore.”

I always respond with this.

Dad: “Oh.”

This is the standard ending to the conversation about my ears.

This isn’t the sort of weather that an umbrella helps with; the water’s not going to be falling from the sky, just generally floating in on the wind, so I don’t pack one. Besides, I prefer just wearing a rainproof jacket and pants.

When I’m done getting ready, I’m in a rainproof light jacket, rainproof pants, rainproof gloves, and I’m wearing a hat that keeps my ears warm.

Dad’s wearing a long-sleeved light sweater, a ball cap, and a pair of jeans. Well, at least he changed out of the shorts and T-shirt.

We’re both wearing hiking boots, and we’ve both got canteens with water and small packs of potentially necessary supplies: Band-Aids, sanitary wipes, and trail mix.

I look Dad up and down again.

Me: “I promise you, I’ve checked the weather. Are you sure you’re dressed appropriately for this? It’s going to be damp and cold. Not raining, but frankly, the type of clinging fog we’re going to be getting is worse than rain.”

Dad: “[My Name], I will be alright. I’ve done this plenty of times. I know what I’m doing, and you don’t have to worry about me.”

Me: “If you’re sure.”

So we go and drive about an hour and a half. We get to the park at about 10 AM, and it’s still cold and damp. We choose a path together, I want to take a short one-two hour one in case the weather is too much for Dad, he wants to take a long six-hour one. We compromise and go on a four-hour path.

By the time we’re done hiking, Dad’s hands are bluish, his lips are bluish, and he’s shivering uncontrollably. His sweater is absolutely soaked. We rushed the final quarter of the trail and passed up on some scenic things he originally wanted to see because he was too cold and wasn’t feeling well.

Dad: “You didn’t tell me the weather would be like this.”

Me: “I did.”

Dad: “I meant three days ago when we were planning the visit.”

Me: “I didn’t know three days ago. Weather prediction changed. It happens.”

Dad: “No, it doesn’t.”

Me: “Dad. We’re Midwesterners. We live in the Midwest. You grew up in Michigan. I grew up in Iowa.”

Dad: “Actually, you were born in LA.”

Me: “Yes, and you moved us to Iowa before I went to elementary school. I don’t even remember LA.”

Dad: “You remember the Kumquat tree we had in our courtyard.”

Me: “I remember the Kumquat tree in our apartment complex’s courtyard. I remember nothing else of LA.”

Dad: “You remember—”

Me: “—For Pete’s sake: You taught me the joke ‘if you don’t like the weather in the Midwest just wait five minutes and it’ll change’. You know as well as I do that weather predictions changed, especially in the Midwest.”

Dad: “Well, it shouldn’t have.”

I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so I just ushered him back into my car, and the towel I’d brought along just in case.

We stopped by a restaurant on the way back into town to warm up and get some food in us.

Dad: “Hey. I had a nice time despite the weather. It was fun. Perhaps next time we can do something indoors?”

Me: “Sure. If you give me enough warning, next time we can do a concert or something.”

Dad: “That would be nice.”

I got him back to his car, and we went our separate ways.