storytelling

Questions From Her Father.

In response to the engagement, her father emailed a series of Mark-related questions.

——–

So I have questions.

1.  Do I have to play catch with him now?

2.  Will we have to spend time in the garage fixing cars?

3.  Can I boss him around, and make him get things for me, like hammers and beers?

4.  Do I have to give you away?  I won’t do it!  You’re MY daughter.

5.  (Why’s he so graspy anyway?)

6.  Will he be driving recklessly and causing me to stay up late, worrying?

7.  Do I have to make sure he knows how to shoot a gun?

8.  Will I be going to Disneyland with him?

9.  Do I have to buy him an ice cream every time I buy you one?

10.  I don’t have to talk to him about girls or anything like that, do I?  I don’t want to.

-jd

She very much loved these questions, which were especially funny since her father did not play catch or fix cars or drink beers or shoot guns — although it was true he did love Disneyland and worried very much about reckless driving. 

She emailed him with her own set of questions.

1. Do I have to cook?

                   1a. If so, does Instant StoveTop count? (I remind the jury:
It did for our Thanksgivings.)

2. Will we still get to sit around the kitchen table, talk for hours, and laugh until our stomachs hurt? 

3. Will we still get to play hangman with Odelia, who I hope will continue to misspell words so it’s impossible to avoid the hanging? Bonus if she continues to misspell words like “Moron.” 

4. Will Mark and Odelia fight over who gets to make the tea now?

5. Can I have more time? I need more time. I can’t be grown up yet. 

6. What if our families can’t stand each other? Can I let you all fight it out yourselves? 

7. Are you still going to lecture me about flossing and brushing my teeth? 

8. Will I ever learn to look for the hand towel in the kitchen before dripping all over the floor? Will Mark get irritated with me and hand me the towel now? Because I’ll miss bugging you.

9. Do I really have to wash my socks every time I wear them?

10.  What am I supposed to do now? 

11. Can we go to the planetarium instead of having a wedding? 

12. Alternatively: Can Whoopie Goldberg be the Voice Of God at the wedding? She does a great job at the planetarium.

-e

——–

She wished she could keep emailing questions forever.

Sean Penn.

It was because of Sean Penn. It was because of a lot of things and then it was because of Sean Penn. Because Sean Penn looked so different in Milk and she couldn’t believe it and so she looked up photographs and compared different Sean Penns. That’s why. The difference between his massiveness in Mystic River and his frailness in Milk. How he took up so much space and then took up so little. She thought: That. Is. Amazing.

She was laughing and looking at Sean Penns on her computer. Hey, she said, Check. This. Out! Sean Penn looks SOoo different.

And Thomas turns to her, and—just like this—he says: Jesus Christ, Erin. I’m SICK of hearing about fucking Sean Penn!

I don’t fu-cking CARE. That’s what he said. Just like that. And stormed out of the room.

Corrine was at her grandmother’s and they just got home from seeing Milk, so she swears she couldn’t have been talking about Sean Penn for long, maybe a half hour—a half hour off-and-on—max. It wasn’t days or anything. She doesn’t even have that kind of attention span.

He hated her, she thought. Or at least he hated when she was happy or excited. That’s what she realized, staring at Sean Penns after he left the room: she realized something about her excitement made him miserable.

It struck her: Maybe someone else would be excited with her. Or happy for her. Some other person might like her.

That’s what she thought, staring at Sean Penns after he left the room.