Father-in-Law

My father-in-law is a pretty good dude. Him and I get along very well. We have similar interests. We both like to golf. We both like to work, and we are both wise-asses. He is much more of a wise-ass than I am. As a matter of fact, I think the only things he says are wise cracks. It does not matter the time or place, he has something smart to say about anything.

Here is an example. I was going to his house to ask for his blessing to marry his daughter. I get there, and it is only he and I in the family room. He offers me a beer, and we sit down and watch golf. I am a nervous wreck. I am trying to build up the courage to ask him, but am too much of a chicken. He absolutely knows why I am there, cause I had never just sat there and watched golf with him before. He does nothing to ease my mind. He just keeps getting me another beer. It takes nearly a six-pack for me to muster up the courage to ask the question.

I go through this big speech about how I love Vicki and Kristin. I use every possible cliché, and catch phrase to get his attention and support. And then I go into this:
“Ummm, I don’t know if I am supposed to ask you for your blessing, or if I am supposed to ask you for your permission, but I would like to marry Vicki.”
He says, “ How about you ask me for my condolences.”

See, wise ass. I am sitting there sweating this thing out, and I am half drunk by the time the question comes out of me, and he says that. He’s funny like that. Anyway, he is having surgery on Monday, and I was thinking about him, so I wrote my favorite story about him. He is still a wise ass though.