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Daddy: Blahblahblah-Dave Ramsey-blahblahblah-Michelin-blahblahblah-Ceilbrite-blahblahblah
Me: [Interrupting him, employing the surprise tactic ‘cuz I’m sneaky like that] So when are you getting remarried?
Daddy: [Surprised, laughs] Well, Sarah, I’ve rescheduled it for next week.
Me: Ha. Funny. I’m serious.
Daddy: I don’t know. When the time is right.
Me: That’s a non-answer. Have you talked to Mr. Oklahoma-Preacher-Man about it?
Daddy: Well, yes. I’m not going to talk about this with you because you’ll get mad at Mr. Oklahoma-Preacher-Man.
Me: Um, no I won’t. I might get mad at YOU, but I won’t get mad at him. Why would I? So what’s the deal? You talked to him about it?
Daddy: Yeah, but there’s nobody… you know, nobody for me to marry.
Me: [In a disbelieving voice] You mean Mr. Oklahoma-Preacher-Man hasn’t set you up on any dates, or even given you one suggestion?!
Daddy: Well, one, but it didn’t work out.
Me: What do you mean, it didn’t work out?
Daddy: Well, I called this girl and asked her out for a hamburger and she said she wasn’t interested. [Good call, unknown-girl-from-Oklahoma]
Me: [Red flag has been alerted by the word “girl”] How old is this girl?
Daddy: I don’t know… around 18. [Laughs]
Me: [Sitting in stunned silence for a moment before the words manage to explode from my mouth] WHAT?!? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?
Daddy: Sarah, I knew you would overreact, that’s why I don’t tell ya’ll anything. She wasn’t 18, I was just kidding. She’s about your age.
Me: Oh, she’s MY AGE? Well that’s MUCH BETTER. You know, on second thought, I am mad at Mr. Oklahoma-Preacher-Man.
Daddy: See, this why I can’t talk to ya’ll. [Heaves a long-suffering sigh at the stupidity of his eldest daughter]

For additional information about my father, Mr. Oklahoma-Preacher-Man, remarriage policies, or my jacked-up religious background, refer to “Full Disclosure.”

And here are a few other gems from the conversation. I typed them as he was talking… wouldn’t want to misrepresent or anything.

My next wife is not going to tell me what to do. I’ve already been down that road, and it just doesn’t work.

One thing is standing in the way of me getting married…. Michelin*.

*You know, for a brief second there, as the “M” sound came out of his mouth, I thought he was going to say “Mama.” As in my mother, the woman he was married to for 31 years. What was I thinking?

I’ll marry somebodythat ya’ll approve of. I mean, don’t get me wrong.. I don’t NEED your approval. But ya’ll will like her and it will be NATURAL.

So, blog readers out there, would any of ya’ll like to marry my father? Because you’re just about the right age bracket, apparently. As I was sitting there looking at him, as these sentences were falling out of him mouth, a thought popped into my head. It’s a thought I’ve had many times… sometimes I feel guilty for thinking it, and other times I’m just too mad to care.

“Why, God? Why Mama instead of him?”

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