My Pop was a real character. It seemed he was always doing weird things or having weird things happen to him.
I remember unexpectedly sleeping overnight at his tiny apartment in Boston one time. I don’t recall the circumstances, but I wasn’t really prepared for a sleepover. His place was so small that I had to sleep in his walk-in closet with my feet sticking out the door. I didn’t have my contact lens gear with me, so I left my lenses in a glass of water went I went to “bed.” The next morning I got up and looked for the glass. It wasn’t where I’d left it.
“Say Pop, do you know where the glass is that I left here last night?”
“You mean that glass of water? I drank it and put the glass in the kitchen.”
Oh NO! Pop had swallowed my lenses! I told him I’d left them in that glass and he felt so bad. He even told me he’d look for them (what???). I said that’s OK, Pop, I have insurance.
Then there was the time he was visiting me in New York. We went out for a walk and he kept complaining that this foot hurt. Finally I said, “Why don’t we find a bench where you can sit down and rest for a bit?” So we found a bench and sat down. Pop took off his shoe and guess what? There was a toothbrush inside it. A toothbrush? Don’t even ask…
Pop was an expat like me and lived in Mexico for years. I went to visit him there, and discovered a couple of his interesting little habits. He was a chocolate addict and kept a stash of Hershey bars in his tiny refrigerator. At night he’d take one, lie down on his bed, and lay the chocolate bar on his bare chest to thaw out a little. More often than not he’d fall asleep and wake up in the morning lying in a soupy glob of chocolate.
His other little habit was to keep a can of Hershey’s syrup next to the bed with a straw in it.
Gotta love my Pop…