#8

Dad is in the Lion's Club. There was a meeting on Monday.
Earlier in the afternoon I helped him print off some papers to give to someone and he had placed them in a manilla folder.
He left for the meeting.
Three minutes since he's left, and he walks back in the door.

Me: That was quick.
Dad: I forgot my wallet!
Me: Ha! Okay. Did you get your papers?
Dad: Yep!

He walks back out the door and leaves again.
Five minutes later my phone rings.

Dad: Are those papers there in the office?
I walk to go look...
Me: Yes! I asked you!!! I asked you before you left if you had them!
Dad: I know! I thought I'd put them in the car!
Me: What is wrong with you?!
Dad: I don't know!!!

I happened to be leaving for somewhere so I drove to meet him so he didn't have to come all the way back to the house for his papers that he could've got when he'd come back for his wallet but didn't because he thought he'd already put them in his car, when in fact he'd just imagined that he had.

Poor fella.

#7 - Panda Express Saga

For some reason dad can never remember the name of the fast food restaurant Panda Express.
It's one of his favorite places to eat. He goes maybe three to four times a month.

I first became aware of this particular memory issue a couple months ago when he came to tell me he was going to get something to eat.

Dad: What's the name of that fast food place I like?
Me: {blank stare} - I don't know. What fast food place?
Dad: {stares at ceiling, trying to remember} - That Chinese place.

I immediately know what he's talking about, but I like to give him memory exercises so I start to question him.

Me: That place has an animal associated with it.
Dad: Uh-huh. {squints, trying to remember}
Me: What is China's national animal, Dad?
Dad: {the light bulb goes off, excitement ensues} The panda!!! Panda Express!!!

A month later...

He walks over to me with a twinkle in his eye. I think, "Oh, God. What now?"
Dad: I'm going to that place I like. {twisty face trying to remember the name}
Me: {Amused} Uh-huh. What's the name of it?
Dad: Uhhh. The place with the fuzzy bear on the door.

I busted up laughing.

Me: Really?! Really? You're ridiculous.
Dad: I'm just kidding. It's Panda Express. But I couldn't remember it earlier...

Then tonight:

With that same mischevious, goofy, twinkle all over his face,
Dad: I'm going out to eat!
Me: {Smiling, playing along, wondering what ridiculousness is coming next} Where to?
Dad: The kay-oh-la bear restaurant!
Me: {Laughing} Oh. My. Gosh.
Dad: No, I remember. But I couldn't earlier, all I could think of was kay-oh-la bear.

The gold in this exchange is that he was pronouncing koala bear, "kay-oh-la".

I didn't correct him. Didn't want to overload his poor brain. Not really. I'm just hoping he uses it in public elsewhere. :)

#6

Dad just got home from church.

Dad: Come here! Do you hear that?!
Me: What?

He's stepping slowly in the kitchen, staring at his shoes, a rubbery shoe meeting tile floor noise accompanies the movement.

Dad: That! These are new shoes! What the heck!
Me: Hmm. That's weird.

He's rocking back and forth on one foot, every time he rocks the shoe the rubber noise is there, though as I'm staring at the shoe the sound doesn't seem to fit. I move closer to inspect and realize the sound is not coming from his shoe, but from a higher place. As he's moving his body to rock on his feet, his hips are also moving...

Me: Aha! Your belt!

I assumed his leather belt was making the squeak noise. It seemed to be coming from thereabout that place, but this is also weird...

Dad: Ohhhhhh!

He looks at me and smiles sheepishly and proceeds to pull a small styrofoam dinner plate out of his back dress pants pocket.

Me: {I put on my "Are you serious?" face.}
Dad: I was in a rush to do the [video]console for church, so I just grabbed some food before going up there. People were milling around after church and I couldn't just walk down there with a dirty styrofoam plate in my hand.
Me: There's not a trash can up there?  (The console is on a second story balcony in the church, the congregation sits down below.)
Dad: Nope.
Me: How do you forget about a folded up dinner plate in your back pocket?
Dad: I don't know.
Me: ...{Shakes head.}

#5

Dad gets a little harebrained whenever he tries to run errands.
Usually because he's in a rush and doesn't have time to think straight. Because he's usually rushing to rush through his errands so he can rush to whatever event he's late for because he spent all day lolly-gagging instead of doing what he was supposed to be doing.

"Usually". That's wrong... "Always". Because he's always rushing around town like a maniac because he's never on time for anything - ever - because he always lolly-gags.

Being on time for something and going at a normal casual pace?
//system error. can not compute.

Anyway...

So I'm in the grocery store one day and my phone starts ringing and I see my father's face on caller ID:

Me: What?
Dad: Help!
Me: What?
Dad: I went into Wal-Mart (yes, another Wal-Mart story...damn that store) and wanted to buy some things, but I went to pay for them and realized - I don't have my wallet! I left it at home!
Me: {rolls eyes} Ok.
Dad: I need money! I have other errands to run. Where are you? Are you...where...what are you doing?
Me: I'm at the grocery store.
Dad: Oh good! I need money. Do you have money?
Me: Yes. Come meet me here.
(The grocery store is 3 minutes down the road from Wal-Mart)
Dad: Ok! I'll meet you in the parking lot. I'll be there in {thinks}...5 minutes!!!
Me: Fine.
--click--

Twelve minutes later I'm sitting in my car at the end of the row in the parking lot wondering, "Why on God's green earth is it taking him 4x as long as it should for him to make the 3/4 mile trip down the road?"

He eventually shows up and pulls up right next to my car so that our driver's side windows are next to each other. Yayyy.
I don't even have to get out of the car.

Dad: How much money you got?
Me: An infinite supply. {I show him my credit card.}
Dad: You're kidding... {Disappointed. He wanted cash.}
Me: What?! You said you needed money! This is money!!! It's all I have. Well.
{I look into the black hole of my purse.}
I have a dollar...twenty-five. What'll that buy you?
Dad: Give me the card.
Me: {Smiles.} :)
Dad: Thank you!
Me: Don't hurt yourself. Watch the road. Bye.
Dad: Ok! {Drives off.}

Turns out the other errand he had to run was to go to the post office to mail some letters. I suppose when he paid for postage using my credit card no one asked to see his ID or even bothered to check the name on the card because he was, indeed, able to use it.
Yayyy security.

Later when we both were at home I asked him what we got in the mail today. (We have a PO box.)
His shoulders slumped.

Dad: I forgot to get it.
Me: ??? But...you were. at. the. post. office.... ?
{Gave him my best "what is wrong with you?"/"wtf?!" eyebrows scrunched confused face.}
Dad: I know... {Shakes head, dumbfounded.} I went in straight to the clerk to pay for the postage and I just...walked right back out.
Me: You were right there.
Dad: I know.
Me: Ok?

Two. Back to back.
Lost wallet. Lost train of thought.
No money. No mail. No mental capacity.

#4

This really doesn't fall under the category of things my Dad forgets, but it's still too funny not to post.

I was watching the CWS the other night in the living room and Dad had come in to sit next to me to watch A&M try to win over SC. --Didn't happen--

During the commercial break he went back into the kitchen to get his toast that had popped up done. Still no action in the game.

After a minute I hear,
"Dammit!!!"

I flinched and my attention shifted toward the kitchen.

I waited to hear if more drama was to ensue. None.

After another minute he emerged from the kitchen looking all annoyed.

I stared at him the entire time on his journey from the kitchen to the sofa.

He sat down next to me and I waited for an explanation.

D: "This plate is slippery!!!"

(to illustrate, he moves the plate back and forth and the two pieces of toast with strawberry jam slippery slide around the plate)

Me: "Uh-huh." (keep going)

D: "I picked up the plate to walk away and the toast fell right to the ground! Right to the ground! Face down, too! Jam stuck to the floor and everything!"

Me: "Bwahhhhahhahahahha!!!"

D: "I'm still eating it, though. Germs and everything."

#3

I was in the kitchen making lunch today and dad was 10 feet away in the office on the phone, shouting into it as usual, talking to some company about I don't know what.

Allow me to mention that his corner of the office comprises of an L-shaped desk where piles and piles of crap scattered work papers lie in a muddle of which no desk space can be seen.

So I'm focusing on making lunch, and I hear him shouting, but I'm tuning him out as per usual so that whatever ridiculous thing he's shouting about doesn't mess up my zen, when all of I sudden I hear my name being shouted. He has on his, "I need your help." voice. I'm working on making the perfect sweet potato dish, so I was going to take my time in replying, however, 6 seconds later I hear my name being called in a, "I need your help immediately!" voice.

I walk into the office and dear old dad is trying to conduct some sort of deal over the phone because he has his phone in one hand, the other hand is searching under the piles of crap paper in front of him, and his face is wearing this baffled/aggravated expression. He asks the person to please hold, and then says to me:

"Where is my credit card?! It was here a minute ago!!!"

By this point I'm standing right next to him, watching him get all upset while he spins back in forth in the swivel chair trying to figure out where the hell his card got legs and ran off to without his permission.

It took me all of one second to point to the fugitive credit card laying at his feet.

He picks it up, shakes his head, furrows his brow
and confoundedly says, "Thank you!"

Mom happened to witness this episode.
As I walked away we exchanged, "Holy hellfire Batman! Sumting dun gone wrong wit dat man ovah dere!" glances.

True story.

His poor brain disappointed him.
It was, after all, right there a second ago.
The card. Not his brain.
Well... That, too.

#2

This is literally a phone conversation I had with my dad a couple of weeks ago:

**ring-ring**

Me: "What?"

D: [Hurried voice.] "I have a question."

Me: "Yes?..."

D: "I was in an accident at the gym. Some guy backed in to me as I was trying to park. I'm okay. The police are on the way, though. This guy seems really irritated..."

Me: "Okay..."

D: "Oh! Okay. So we're getting our information together. Where is my insurance card?"

Me: [I'm wearing my incredulous, 'Are you f***ing kidding me?' face.]
"...Um. I don't know. In the GLOVE BOX? Where people usually keep it?"

D: "OH!!! Yeah! The glove box! That's right. Okay."

Me: [dumbfounded] "Dad?"

D: "Yeah?"

Me: [Exasperated.] "THINK. Before you call me."

D: [With exuberant tone.] "But I like talking to you!"

Me: [Rolls eyes. Dead pan.] "You're ridiculous."

D: [Hurried voice.] "Okay, I gotta go!"

-click-

Me: [Stares at phone, stunned.]
---

Allow me to explain. It wasn't as if, of all things, I took his insurance card and he was calling me to ask where on this planet I decided to hide it from him. He was literally calling to ask me, "Hey...I know you're not my keeper and you've never seen it ever before, but do you of all people happen to know where in the dark abyss of my crap-store I put my insurance card?"

Just so you're aware of my tone, I wasn't angry or annoyed that he called me. I was just shocked that his brain had so poorly malfunctioned that he actually had to call me to figure out where his card was hiding.

Did I mention that he had decided to go to the gym AFTER midnight, which by that point means his brain capacity is already considerably depleted for the day?
Also, since he was involved in a little fender bender, he's allowed to be a little flustered...

But see...dad's not normal people.
Normal people's brains go,
"Car accident. Must trade insurance. Insurance in wallet/glove box."

Dad's brain apparently went,
"Truck hit my car. Man angry. Must trade insur-
//system error. can not compute."

Seriously?