Hype.

I’m just sitting here trying to think about what to write, but I’m totally distracted. I’m with my dad and he’s watching the game and drinking which means he’s more hype than a five year old at Chuck E. Cheese’s. He’s either geeked or totally displeased, there’s no in between. And the talking is nonstop. What’s even better is my bro is sitting across from him trying to argue facts.

I live for these moments. I don’t hang out with my dad as much as I should but it’s nice to get the quintessential experience when I do. My dad has three main states: asleep on the couch, golfing, and expert commentator/coach/physician. His expertise is carpentry, but he’s the guy I can depend on for advice on anything I never asked him about.

“Have you ever tried molasses? You should try some, it’s good for you.” Disgusting.

“You need a good multi-vitamin. You look like you need some more iron.” He opens his kitchen drawer full of vitamins. No thanks, Dad.

“You need to eat more stuff that’s good for you. You don’t like nothing that’s good for you.” But your diet is ribs and alcohol! Nevermind.

“You haven’t put your seatbelt on yet!” Ok, this one is totally valid.

So, naturally, it’s just like him to coach the entire basketball game. If you make a mistake, you suck at that. If you make two mistakes, you need to come out the game. If you do well, then you’re a man to watch and the coach needs to play you more.

You don’t even have to prompt the man, he just keeps going and going and going. Hype is the single word I’d use to describe him. He just used the phrase, “J.R. Smith is a gangster” and I had to keep a straight face while getting instantly weak inside. I didn’t imagine I’d be up past my bedtime, struggling to write, but I gotta say, my evening is lit.