Imagine, if you will, that this is your father:
Your father is officially the most embarrassing man on the planet.
You might be at a funeral, and he'll take your cousin aside to ask him some questions:
"So when your mom was dying, was she coughing up blood or what? Lay it out for me."
"Yeah so you were with Katherine for a longass time, but she went crazy or something? Like what? Schizo, bipolar? Oh man, both! So what's the deal with that she spend any time institutionalized? That must have been sorta hard on you, but you cheated on her! What was up with that? Couldn't take the crazy? The sex was no good? Lay it out."
Despite the fact that my sister and I have had to make a shame-related fastbreak to the door, whomever he's talking to will answer every single one of his questions, looking neither perturbed nor embarrassed.
He has no filter for topics of conversation. He might talk about sex with your mom, or doing drugs, or his opinions on circumcision, or anything really. You really don't want him to, but that doesn't so much seem to matter.
Your father has four older sisters, and you suspect that this is why he is so defensive of your little brother when you put him in your dress and introduce him as your new friend Emily.
He'll have an inexplicable tattoo of a dancing Indian on one forearm. Actually, he has tattoos all over his arms, that's just the one that's inexplicable.
He might be narcoleptic.
That might make driving sort of an adventure.
When you're a little girl, he'll be the only person on the planet who you allow to brush your hair.
He might have been traveling as a teenager, and he might have ended up in Afghanistan. And then say he got Dysentery, ran out of money, and rode to Spain in the back of a truck full of goats, puking and shitting.
He's a Teamster.
He doesn't really like to leave his house. He goes to work, he visits his dad or goes to Giants games or both on the weekends, he goes out to dinner with your mom on their anniversary, and you are consistently shocked when he leaves for any other reason.
He is a sports fanatic. Even when reason tells you there might be nothing on TV, you'll find him watching a South African women's lacrosse tournament and claiming that he's REALLY into it.
He might be the only person you've ever met in your life who has actually never laid hands on a computer.
He might also be the only person you've ever met who doesn't have a checking account by choice.
Your kids will all call him Banta instead of Grandpa.
Once he was rear-ended in what would have been a hit and run, except that he engaged in a high speed car chase.
Thinking about the possibility that his mom might some day pass away will make him cry.
He wakes up at around 5 or 6 am every morning.
Your mom's cousin is a born again Christian. Every time your dad sees him, he might force this man to reminisce about doing drugs in the 70s.
If you're at a party, and the food is gross, your dad might hide it in the yard. A burrito under a rock perhaps, or some chicken wings in the storm drains.
And, if this was your father, he turned 53 on Friday.
Happy Birthday Daddy!