Thinly Veiled Threat

Whenever Mom or I get on Dad's case about one thing or another, he'll retaliate with his standard threat:

"I'm gonna go get a furnished room!"

He's never made good on this. Not once.

Damn Beavers

Recently, while watching E! News, Mom mutters:

"I hate that 'bleeping' Beaver kid."

Yeah, me too.

Before Janet Jackson, there was...

Circa Mid-1990s.

Dad is making breakfast. And, he's experiencing a wardrobe malfunction.

Let's face it: He's never been able to find the right belt/pants combination. Frustrated by his drooping pants, he struggles -- spatula in hand -- to lift them belly-high. As he's doing so, he mutters under his breath:

"Why do my pants... ugh... WHY do my pants... keep..."

And then, as if he's trying out for some Broadway musical, he belts out Ira Gershwin-like:

"WHYYYYYY do my PANTSSSSS keep FALLINGGGGGG DOWWWWWWN!

I really wish I had that on audio for ya. It seriously was priceless. But, do your best to try and imagine the vocal and melody.