Will Not Be Moved On Being Moved

(During a house move, my father blows out his knee, putting a hold on our plans for a couple of weeks while he recovers. We have just finished packing the car full of most of our stuff, and my father and I are trying to decide what to take next when we approach the shed. After loading a particularly heavy item into the van, our soon-to-be-former landlady comes up.)

Landlady: “Hey, [Dad’s Name]! You’re gonna have to move your van; it’s blocking the road.”

Dad: “No it’s not, unless [Neighbor] needs a 12-foot berth when he pulls in and out of the driveway.”

Landlady: “You need to move the van so people behind you can get through.”

(The path is wide enough to hold two trucks side by side.)

Dad: “No I don’t; it’s fine.”

(The landlady walks away for a few moments, then comes back.)

Landlady: “When am I getting the house keys back?”

Dad: “When I’m done moving.”

Landlady: “Yeah, I’m gonna need them back by the end of the day.”

Dad: “Not happening. I still have stuff in my shed, and my son has his stuff to move.”

Landlady: “It had d*** well better happen!”

Me: “Not to sound like an a**, but we’d get done a lot quicker without you mouth-breathing down our necks over minor details.”

Landlady: “That’s it! Gimme the f*****g keys or I’m calling the cops!”

Dad: “Look, I’m going to say this plainly. You’re getting your keys when we leave this place for good. After that you can go in there and twerk all over the counter for all I care, but you’re not getting the keys until I’m done.”

(The landlady leaves and turns around to say something, but my dad cuts her off.)

Dad: “And I’ll move the d*** van, too!”

(As she leaves, I look at my dad with a surprised grin.)

Me: “That… was… AWESOME! Usually it’s Mom who explodes like that.”

Dad: “I have my moments. But compared to your mom, it’s like holding a candle next to the sun.”