I think I just wrote three drafts of a post about my Dad. I could talk about how we bicker about our computers (it’s TRUE), how he has a maternal need to feed me (why, I’ll never understand), or how he’s done more with his life than anyone could ever predict, but this really is the best story I could share with all of you.

Two years ago, I worked at the city zoo during the holiday season. It was a particularly busy night and I was temporarily in the back room when the phone rang. My supervisor was on the line:

S: ” Brittney? ”

Me: “Yeah.”

S: (hushed voice) “Stay back there.”

Me: “Uh… what?”

S: “What did you do?”

Me: “I’m… tagging the Babirusas…?”

S: “No, I mean, what are you involved in?!”

Me: “What the heck are you talking abou–”

S: “There’s this scary guy in a suit asking for you.”

Me: “Why?”

S: “I don’t know! I told him you don’t work here.”

Me: “You told him I don’t…”

S: “Yeah, I think he’s a cop. So stay back there, I’ll cover for you.”

Me: “What in the hell…”

(my cell phone rings)

My Dad: “Brittney? Don’t you work at the zoo? I thought you worked here! I just got out of a meeting and–”

(This is the part where I die of laughter.)

So, apparently my Dad looks like a G-Man. I’ve always felt like he looked like a banker, or something.

In the end, it got all sorted out. He’s still slightly suspicious that maybe I never worked at the zoo at all, since apparently my supervisor did such a good job feigning ignorance when he asked about me.

Some day I’ll talk about his work, and how I have no idea what it is he does, but I think this is good enough for today.

Happy Father’s day, Dad.