Last weekend, my dad performed an exaggerated Heimlich on me while I was brushing my teeth.
Well, first I should say that staying in a hotel with my family is usually a very silly experience. Ronnie, the kids, and I had a room adjoining my parents’, and the craziness didn’t stop.
I think it all started with Ronnie playing the air guitar. Kendra grabbed the guitar (yes, I know that’s an impossibility), and he fell backwards, landed on his back, walked his feet on the wall, and did a strange, convoluted back flip, only to jump up and decide to teach the kids how to do a running front flip on to the bed. It was a very nice addition to their usual hotel room game of “jumping bed to bed”.
I went to brush my teeth and left the door open. I coughed in the process, and next thing I knew, my dad came running through the wall (as Max described our connecting door) yelling “Emergency!” and started such an exaggerated Heimlich that he was actually lifting me off the floor that I laughed so hard with my mouth full of toothpaste that I probably was indeed in danger of choking.
Then, I heard a knock at the door. I went to answer it and no one was there. I stepped out a little into the hallway just to make sure absolutely no one was there, and next thing I knew, my dad shoved me out of the hotel room to lock me out in the hall.
This kind of thing is very standard in our father/daughter relationship. Let’s see, once in high school, one of his pranks nearly landed me in the emergency room when I couldn’t dislodge the green peanut M&M he shoved up my nose. Last time we went out for pizza, I asked for the red pepper shaker and turned my head. When I looked at my plate, the (much-handled, disgusting) pepper shaker was sitting squarely on top of my once-delicious slice of cheese pizza. That’s just how it is. My dad loves to make me laugh.
The funniest time I can remember, though, was a time we went grocery shopping amped up on a little too much espresso. We were in the soap and shampoo aisle, and my dad told me to smell a new soft soap called Fa!. He held the bottle, and I took an exaggerated inhale…
Right as he squeezed the bottle! My sinuses filled with Fa!. It was the most terrible burning sensation, but I couldn’t stop laughing. There was absolutely nothing I could do about the pain other than trying to blow the soap out. We were literally laughing so hard that we were wallowing on the Bi-Lo floor.
What kind of dad would do that to his daughter?
Mine.
And I’m so glad that he does. Well, honestly, I could do without chocolate or soap up my nose or being rescued while I’m brushing my teeth, but I’m so glad to have a dad who loves to make me laugh. My dad is my friend.
