... nissan termite final chew, everyone
i once dated someone whose father could not be understood by any unrelated person. on my initial encounter with ‘dad’, i was at his front door, and he looked right at me and shouted “nissan final termite chew”.
upon my non-response, he repeated himself. louder this time “NISSAN TERMITE FINAL CHEW”. he then stood there, obviously expecting a response. he seemed cheerful enough, so i guessed and said “thanks”.
my boyfriend then nudged me and whispered “say it’s nice to finally meet you too”. oooooh. gotcha. “nice to finally meet you, too” i told ‘dad’. dad smiled. “tuna !” he yelled happily in reply as we walked into the house.
a short time later, seated at lunch, i enquired of dad what his plans were for the remainder of the weekend. dad motioned across the table at my boyfriends’ younger brother and said “get him a dress”.
i pondered this for a moment before (thankfully) the brother interrupted by saying “i don’t have time tomorrow, dad”, yet i was still none the wiser when dad insisted in reply “your onion doesn’t”.
at a total loss by this point, it was with much relief that i listened as my boyfriend told dad that the brother could “get his own mattress when he was ready”.
“i agree, dad. he can get his own dress when he’s got time” i chimed in. “PALM !” dad agreed happily, smiling at me “apron bear china !”.