Polish is as Polish does
So I don't talk about my dad here too much, typically because he's the normal parent. See, but, he's the Polish parent, so there is on occasion some amusement to be had.
I totally forgot about the one from last week. Dad likes to use paper plates when he eats. I stopped using them a while ago because I think they're wasteful, but dad probably likes the easy cleanup. Because he buys the cheap paper plates, they usually require a plate holder in order to keep their shape. Alas, our old (and cheap) plate holders have bitten the dust, to the point where dad jokingly asked for some for Christmas. Somehow we haven't been able to find any; maybe they're seasonal and we'll see some when the picnic gear comes out. That led dad to an improvised plate holder the other day: An actual plate. No, totally serious, he put his food on a paper plate, realized it was too moist and the plate would give way, couldn't find a plate holder, and grabbed a real plate out of the cupboard. Hindsight or a non-Polish brain would have told him to skip the paper plate altogether, but that doesn't make an amusing anecdote.
So then, today, I made chicken for dinner. Since we have tortillas in the house, I decided to make wraps, and since I was feeling cook-y, I decided to heat them on the stove instead of in the microwave. I was digging in the cabinet for a pan when dad asked what I was doing, and when I told him he said, that's not how we used to do it! Let me show you! He proceeded to toss a tortilla directly onto a burner. Okay, that's all fine and dandy...but the tortilla is leaving tortilla-prints all over the burner. Plus, it's leaking bits all onto the stovetop. Guess who gets to clean the stove today! He was all, and you were going to dirty a pan? Yes, but you can easily transport the pan to the sink and/or the dishwasher, hello. He must not have been at a good angle, though, because while I could clearly see that he was making a mess, it wasn't until he stopped heating tortillas that he discovered that the burner and stovetop were covered in tortilla bits. Yeah, who's the smarty-pants now? See, I am aware that Hispanic cultures do heat up their tortillas in a similar fashion, but trust me, my immediate family has no Hispanic background. This is how we get tortilla scalded onto the stove. And, of course, my mother was due home pretty soon; dad hurriedly grabbed a sponge and started wiping down the burner. It was as he was doing that that I heard the door to the garage--heh, he's going to get caught! But he managed to wipe down the burner before mom walked in, and she'd brought home other foodstuffs so we got distracted by that. However, once she'd gotten changed and came to get dinner, she did walk over to the stove, where she saw the remnants of dad's cooking adventure on the stovetop, which was too hot for him to clean. This caused mom to have this reaction:
"What, was someone clipping their toenails on the stove?"
BUSTED!!!
I totally burst into laughter at that, which in turn caused dad to do the same, meaning it was a full minute before I could stop laughing enough to tell mom what all had happened as well as a nice fat I TOLD YOU SO to my father. Even better, mom spent yesterday cleaning said stovetop, so there was a touch of extra upset in admonishing my father for doing that. Dad will probably spend part of this weekend re-cleaning the stove for her. See, I am my mother's daughter, and while I try not to act like her, I do know what will set her off. You think my father would realize this after thirty-plus years of marriage, but I guess not.
I totally forgot about the one from last week. Dad likes to use paper plates when he eats. I stopped using them a while ago because I think they're wasteful, but dad probably likes the easy cleanup. Because he buys the cheap paper plates, they usually require a plate holder in order to keep their shape. Alas, our old (and cheap) plate holders have bitten the dust, to the point where dad jokingly asked for some for Christmas. Somehow we haven't been able to find any; maybe they're seasonal and we'll see some when the picnic gear comes out. That led dad to an improvised plate holder the other day: An actual plate. No, totally serious, he put his food on a paper plate, realized it was too moist and the plate would give way, couldn't find a plate holder, and grabbed a real plate out of the cupboard. Hindsight or a non-Polish brain would have told him to skip the paper plate altogether, but that doesn't make an amusing anecdote.
So then, today, I made chicken for dinner. Since we have tortillas in the house, I decided to make wraps, and since I was feeling cook-y, I decided to heat them on the stove instead of in the microwave. I was digging in the cabinet for a pan when dad asked what I was doing, and when I told him he said, that's not how we used to do it! Let me show you! He proceeded to toss a tortilla directly onto a burner. Okay, that's all fine and dandy...but the tortilla is leaving tortilla-prints all over the burner. Plus, it's leaking bits all onto the stovetop. Guess who gets to clean the stove today! He was all, and you were going to dirty a pan? Yes, but you can easily transport the pan to the sink and/or the dishwasher, hello. He must not have been at a good angle, though, because while I could clearly see that he was making a mess, it wasn't until he stopped heating tortillas that he discovered that the burner and stovetop were covered in tortilla bits. Yeah, who's the smarty-pants now? See, I am aware that Hispanic cultures do heat up their tortillas in a similar fashion, but trust me, my immediate family has no Hispanic background. This is how we get tortilla scalded onto the stove. And, of course, my mother was due home pretty soon; dad hurriedly grabbed a sponge and started wiping down the burner. It was as he was doing that that I heard the door to the garage--heh, he's going to get caught! But he managed to wipe down the burner before mom walked in, and she'd brought home other foodstuffs so we got distracted by that. However, once she'd gotten changed and came to get dinner, she did walk over to the stove, where she saw the remnants of dad's cooking adventure on the stovetop, which was too hot for him to clean. This caused mom to have this reaction:
"What, was someone clipping their toenails on the stove?"
BUSTED!!!
I totally burst into laughter at that, which in turn caused dad to do the same, meaning it was a full minute before I could stop laughing enough to tell mom what all had happened as well as a nice fat I TOLD YOU SO to my father. Even better, mom spent yesterday cleaning said stovetop, so there was a touch of extra upset in admonishing my father for doing that. Dad will probably spend part of this weekend re-cleaning the stove for her. See, I am my mother's daughter, and while I try not to act like her, I do know what will set her off. You think my father would realize this after thirty-plus years of marriage, but I guess not.