Father's day was spent as it always is...relaxing at my dad's beach house and enjoying our annual lobsterfest. So, for those of you who find this sort of thing needlessly cruel, please don't read any further, because one of the guys you see in this picture gets it in the end...
We tried to make the boiling process as comfortable as possible for poor Jim.
"Teddy, you have a nice voice. Would you mind singing to him while we boil the water?" my mother suggested.
"I've heard that it you slowly raise the temperature, the human body will adjust, and he won't realize that he's being boiled alive," said Kathy. "Why don't we try that?"
In the end, the most difficult part of the process was fitting Jim into this little pot. For such a big guy, he kept complaining that his hips were feeling constricted. And yes, I guess we do taste like chicken, after all!
Corb didn't go to the beach house with us. He was laid up in the apartment, nursing a sour stomach.
Had he been invited? Well, Mom had called about Father's Day, and said, I could invite "everyone," and then mentioned the kids and Josie. I called my sister Kerrie for a strategy conference. Her advice was: "Ted, just bring him. He's family." And, when my mother called back for conformation, I made it clear he was going. Not, "Do you mind if?" Not, "Oh, and by the way..." Just "Me, Corb, and the kids," leaving no room for arguments.
A note to the uninitiated: it's allegedly not that my parents disapprove of my relationship with Corb. It's that I'm not divorced from Josie as yet. Until that day comes, they have indicated that they'd "prefer not" to meet my partner, even though we've been together for two years. Yes, I know, it's ridiculous, and as my brother and sister have both indicated, fuck that shit, I'm just bringing my man with me wherever I go. Just, not when his stomach feels as though it's being twisted with a red hot poker.
PS: He's feeling better today.
My favorite part of the day was swimming with the kids. The water was agonizingly cold against my legs when I first entered.
"Eeeek," I said. "Let's get out of here."
"Come on, Daddy," said Theo. "You'll get used to it after a while. I am!"
I wasn't going to let my guy down, and threw myself in, head first. After I stopped screaming, it started to feel pretty good, although I felt a bit like a reverse lobster: I knew that the water was colder than was comfortable, but that my body had grown accustomed to it. I could just feel it in my toes.
Ashes joined us after a few minutes, and we swam out to my favorite "rock," located a few hundred feet off shore. It was high tide, however, and the rock was too far down. Only a buoy gave any indication that it still existed.
And yes, the lobsters were delicious. Guys with beards get an extra benefit, too. The taste of the lobsters lingers with me still, clinging to my beard like the scent of a pretty woman clings to the bedsheets.