I Don't Think I'll Ever Know Why

This is the story I tell to people who don't know anything about my Dad. This story best captures his sprit and personality. First off I can do a flawless impression of my father. He has a loud booming voice with a faint southern accent. Nothing in the world sounds like him. He and I are built the same; all gut no butt with big poofy hair. It's like a dry Jheri curl.

When I visit I head right for the fridge. Now as a bachelor, I doubt he has food, but there is usually a soda to grab. He's seated on the couch in the living room which leads right into the kitchen, save for the wall separating them. It's a big kitchen with lots of empty space.

So I walk in the kitchen and I see a large couch with a leopard sheet on it. This is unusual. I stop and call out to the living room behind me.

"Hey Dad why is this couch in here?"

He replies with a hint of a southern accent, "WHAT?"

I roll my eyes and repeat, "Why's this couch out here."

"HUH?"

Frustrated I ask again, "Why is this couch out here?"

I hear my father hit the ground and start shuffling towards the kitchen. He's all gut and no but so he shuffles over to the doorway. He gets in my face and in a near panic asks, "WHAT YOU SAY!?"

I should probably point out that my father is cockeyed. Not slightly either. Cockeyed all to hell. So one eye is fixed on me the other is looking at the sink. I cannot tell you how hard it was as a child to look at him with a straight face. When my brother or I were in trouble he'd say, "Look me in the eyes." Rough I tell you.

I'm looking him right in the eye(s) and without having any way of understanding his panic, again I ask, "Why is this couch out here?"

He falls out and is relieved, "OH MUH GUD! I THOUGHT YOU SAD WHYY DEES COPS OUT HERE." He's trying to calm himself down and is breathing a little hard.

Without prompting he darts over to the kitchen window and slides his fingers between two blinds flicking them open...you know just like evil old ladies do when children are in their yard. The only thing is I know he can't see a damn thing because he's looking with the cockeye. I mean doesn't he know he's cockeyed? He searches for officers for a minute and then returns to the living room relieved the cops aren't here. I'm left standing in the kitchen alone to sort out what just happened.

I never found out why the leopard couch was in the kitchen. This is my Dad.