Wednesday, February 2


I had a lovely little awkward conversation with my dad this past weekend.

He was joking about this younger guy at work whose daughter just had a baby and about how he likes to go around the office calling this younger guy "grandpa."

To this I reply
well you don't have to worry about being called that anytime soon. Or maybe ever.

Insert my awkward laugh.
And my dad's raised eyebrows.
Which means I need to explain further.

So I tell him that I used the bob and weave move on the last two guys that tried to kiss me (usage of the words last two guys in front of kiss made the eyebrows go even further from the brow bone).

You see. My dad and I don't talk about these things. Boys. Kissing. Mainly because there's never been much to say before. There's not much to say now. But enough for me to realize (a bit too late) that this is not something I would like to discuss with my father. Ever again.

Unfortunately, I kept going.

I told him details.
What. Was. I. Thinking.

About how one of them was a friend of a friend at a New Years Party. About how when he leaned in I freaked out and ducked.

About how I thought the other one was funny and reminded me of my brother, so that's why I kept talking to him. About how I didn't realize me sticking around and talking to him made it seem like I was interested in anything more than a conversation. About how I bobbed and weaved. Twice. Because he didn't figure it out the first time.

I did, however, conveniently leave out the fact that I was at a bar, he was the bartender, and he was a little scary for a few seconds when he kept asking why I wouldn't kiss him. I told him it was because I like to move slow. But in all honestly, who wants to kiss a smoker who looks and acts just like her brother?! (I later admitted to him that he reminded me of my brother and kissing him would just be wrong. He accepted that answer much better than the first, saying well I wouldn't want to kiss someone that reminded me of my brother either, that would just be wrong!)

So I left out the good stuff but I gave enough details to make me regret bringing it up.

And after all this do you know what my dad told me?
Well you're never going to get a boyfriend if you keep bobbing and weaving.

Thanks Dad. Thanks.

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