My dad likes to talk. A lot. I love him very much and on a long drive, he's great.

Yesterday, I was talking to him about my uncle. And then he started telling about this friend of my great aunt's. He was going on and on. Finally, I had to interrupt him to ask him if he had a point. To which he replied, "Well, she died." I started laughing so hard. There was absolutely no connection between the topics of conversation. NOTHING! And then he just ignored my laughter and started in on something new! LOL

Tonight, I phoned mom just to find out if they were going to come visit me this weekend because she had told me earlier that they were. It was a short conversation and we were done. But then dad had picked up the other line and was wanting to talk to me. I just started giggling because of the conversation last night. He knew why I was laughing so he asked me what I was going to do when I had to take care of him. It's obvious - stick him in a room full of cats to talk to all day. He hates all the cat hair everywhere so I told him I'd vacuum often. How was I going to vacuum without having to talk to him? Sedation in the food I put under the door, of course! It was at that point he finally called me bad. Heh. My dad talking to a room full of cats. It'd either be a hit comedy or something the likes of About Schmidt.