Dad v Pizza



I always said that my Dad's kinda like Grandpa Simpson, but brown instead of yellow; the other night I was in the kitchen thinking what to cook my folks for dinner etc. Dad had a choir practice that evening and was getting impatient to eat soon and to get going. He said that there was a frozen pizza in the freezer which would be quicker etc. We ended up arguing over it as I refused to eat shite like that and preferred to cook something fresh and healthier which would take the same amount of time to prepare. But no, he walks into the garage where we have another freezer and comes back saying that he's going to cook the pizza. And the sorry little fella is standing there with a packet of frozen sausages in his hand. Fuck it made me laugh. He just stood there all confused. I know, I'm cruel but it was funny.

Everywhere he goes he leaves a mess behind, it's almost a law of the universe like gravity. I was in a rush once to mail some application forms out one day before last post was collected. But I had included some portfolio samples so I wasn't sure what value stamps to put on them etc. So I asked him to weigh them and see, as he knows the weight limits and charges and all that stuff. So I hand him the first one and I watch him weigh it and when he gives it back to me it has jam on it! But from where? There wasn't any jam around and he seemed stumped as to where it had come from as well!

I swear one of these days he's going to come running home claiming Wolves are chasing him...