Dragging dad to Sicily
My dad’s a bluff, unemotional ex-military type, largely unconcerned about what his now-adult children are getting up on a daily basis. I’m kinda like that too – sure if something happens, someone will call me, and if nothing is happening, there’s no need to call… right?
When I asked him when he was going to come to Sicily to meet Sonia’s parents, he replied “What would I be doing that for? Won’t I meet ’em at the wedding?”
“Yeah but don’t you want to see some of Sicily and visit your second-youngest son?”
“Ah, see one Med country, you’ve seen ’em all, and didn’t I see you last April?!”
Of course he was just doing it to wind me up, and sure enough the next thing was when would be a good time to visit etc. etc. He came for a week with my nephew Donnacha and had a whale of a time. Between regaling us with stories from his military and post-military careers (he’s a traffic warden in my hometown Athlone now), he indulged in forbidden sweets (“I’m on holiday!”) and endless cappucinos.
Favourite story – he gave a known local tough-guy and sometimes-violent-criminal a parking fine, and was threatened by same “You won’t give me another bloody ticket!”. And the guy was right, my dad never did give him another ticket, ‘cos half an hour later he discovered that the guy, in his rage, had driven his car into the river, where, it has to be admitted, it isn’t illegal to park.
His parting comment – “The next time though I’m hiring a motorbike so I can go off and be on my own!”
Thanks Sonia for capturing a great moment for me with my dad.