My sister and I took Dad to the urologist today for a blood test to see how well his cancer meds are working, and I discovered the rich fantasy life my Dad has. He told his doctor all about the parties with girls, and how he drinks beer all day when he’s not eating cake.
The dude does eat a ton of cake, but I’m pretty sure the rest was bullshit.
Dad may need to get shots that will chemically castrate him. Our conversation, for your entertainment:
Dad: Am I getting a flu shot?
Me: No, Dad, a shot in the balls.
Dad: What?
Me: Oh, come on, it’s been ages since anyone’s touched your balls.
Yeah, I went there.
I am laughing to hard to say anything of value.
Then my work here is done.
The good news is he probably won't remember you talking about his balls!