My dad immigrated to the US in 1979 to STEAL AMERICAN JOBS. Just kidding, he actually came here to repopulate the United States with his seed. This dude makes babies like it’s his job (that he stole from an American). Because my dad is foreign, and also crazy, growing up with him is interesting. And often, just super weird.
Take for example this 20 year running joke where he claims to be some random man named John Anderson. He thinks it’s THE FUNNIEST joke in all the world. And it’s literally been a thing since I was a teenager. That, and, “I’m in Chicago.” Which doesn’t even really make sense.
The other day:
Dad: hello? [very thick Persian accent]
Me: Hi dad!
Dad: I’m not eh your dad. I’m John Anderson FBI.
Me: Ok dad.
Dad: I just eh said I’m not your dad. I don’t have deh children. I have many girlfriends and no children.
Me: Gross.
Dad: excuse me? What’s so gross about dat?
Me: The picturing my dad with his many girlfriends part.
Dad: hahahahaha! Can’t I git a break?
Me: Not when your goal in life is to recreate the Persian empire on American soil.
Dad: Bahahaha. Well, I need a break.
Me: Then you should get better at using contraceptives.
Dad: hahahahaha. I’m dropping off your stepmom at the airport and then I’m coming to see you. I love you baby.
Me: love you, too. Dad.
Me: [hangs up and searches for wine].
M. E. Evans 