One of the singular redeeming qualities my stepdad possessed was his sense of humor and his quick wit, as anyone who knew him can attest to. It was how some people came to overlook his unredeemable faults.
And although he made much of my childhood traumatic and absolutely terrifying, we did have some good times. He helped shape my sense of humor, which is rather dark, and I learned the healing quality of laughter. It sure as hell has gotten me through tough times.
It seemed that we were forever riffing on things, clowning around and trying to outdo each other in making the other laugh - but only when things weren't deadly serious, mind you.
When I was 8, I remember Rod and I were repairing our back door, which had been kicked in earlier in the day by a burglar. I was driving nails into the new door casing when I smashed my thumb with the hammer. It wasn't as bad as it looked because I hadn't hit it square on, but I froze and stared at it.
Rod was concerned, thinking I'd actually injured myself. He looked at me and then at my thumb and then quickly back at me. I held up my "injured" hand, lifted my index finger and gave him a "give me one second" nod. I slowly turned the doorknob, opened the door, stepped outside and closed the door. Then I yelled, "OUCH!!!!!!!!"
When I opened the door, he was on his back on the floor laughing his ass off.
One of the singular redeeming qualities my stepdad possessed was his sense of humor and his quick wit, as anyone who knew him can attest to. It was how some people came to overlook his unredeemable faults.
And although he made much of my childhood traumatic and absolutely terrifying, we did have some good times. He helped shape my sense of humor, which is rather dark, and I learned the healing quality of laughter. It sure as hell has gotten me through tough times.
It seemed that we were forever riffing on things, clowning around and trying to outdo each other in making the other laugh - but only when things weren't deadly serious, mind you.
When I was 8, I remember Rod and I were repairing our back door, which had been kicked in earlier in the day by a burglar. I was driving nails into the new door casing when I smashed my thumb with the hammer. It wasn't as bad as it looked because I hadn't hit it square on, but I froze and stared at it.
Rod was concerned, thinking I'd actually injured myself. He looked at me and then at my thumb and then quickly back at me. I held up my "injured" hand, lifted my index finger and gave him a "give me one second" nod. I slowly turned the doorknob, opened the door, stepped outside and closed the door. Then I yelled, "OUCH!!!!!!!!"
When I opened the door, he was on his back on the floor laughing his ass off.
I had successfully raised the bar.