learning about labor, day

this weekend my parents came out to visit. the stated purpose of their visit was to help us put the condo together. so, with the foresight of an interior decorator that seems to be hardwired into most women, kellie planned for my dad and i to build a bookshelf for the study. no problem, i thought. after all, during college 'building' a bookshelf consisted of resting 2 x 4 x 8's on a pair of cinder blocks and in post-college it consisted of purchasing a couple of sauder quality bookshelves from target and hastily putting them together. of course, nothing could have been further from her mind.

when she determined last tuesday that the measurements of the bookshelf would be 6 x 8, thus covering the north wall of my study, i began to get a little worried. it was going to be a bigger undertaking than i expected, i reasoned, but nothing we couldn't complete in a day or, possibly, two. when my father and i spent two and a half hours carefully selecting and purchasing $200 worth of wood on friday night, i knew i was in over my head. when my dad spoke of me using the circular saw, which i had last seen being utilized as a weapon in Commando and had never used myself, i began to sweat.

now that my body is beginning to recover, on wednesday of the following week, i realize that my anxiety was warranted. over a (count 'em) four day period, my father and i built one of the most sturdy, spacious and, dare i say, impressive bookshelves that i have ever seen. i learned how to use the circular saw, a mitre box and a tape measure. and i learned, yet again, that when you are working with a man as industrious as my father, hemorrhaging mucus, upcoming sermons (i preached on sunday as well. how's that for planning?) and labor day picnics are no reason to stop working. thus, this september sixth, instead dominating yet another game of whiffle ball, i truly learned about labor. thanks for the lesson dad. you'll always be my blue collar hero.

discretion suggests that i leave the following incidents untyped. but the delirium brought on by the sudafed/alka-seltzer/claritin cocktail i've been sipping since the sawdust started flying has impaired my judgement. thus, i will do what i rarely ever do on this blog, tell a family secret...

my dad is a very articulate, well-spoken man. however, he has a problem pronouncing two words, hawaii, which comes out ha-YY, and peanuts, which is pronounced as though the 't' is silent. my beloved wife stocks peanuts for me to snack on and i indulge in them regularly since they are a part of my low-sodium diet. over the weekend, i got my atkins-loving father to partake in my practice as well, which, due to his pronunciation problem, led to the following, horrifying, statements:

when dr. james walked into the study and asked my dad how things were going the response was unintelligible. dr. j. politely told my dad that he could not hear him and asked him to repeat. my father, responding to james in kind, said "i'm sorry, i just had some peanu(t)s in my mouth."

later on in the evening, when dad's exhaustion was effecting his grammar, he looked staight at me and asked "hey jeff, where is your peanu(t)s?"

needless to say, both dr. j and i about died.

by the way...mom, i'd appreciate it if you keep the last part of this post between us.