My dad had two rules:
My dad looked like he belonged to the Italian Mafia. It was always great when a friend of mine would meet my dad for the first time. They didn’t know if they should laugh at his jokes out of fear or because he was genuinely funny.
My dad passed away following a battle with lung cancer. A few days before he died, the remote control wasn’t working properly. He asked me to get batteries from the cabinet. When I asked why he needed them, he looked up at me with a dumbfounded look on his face and said, “To put up my ass! Why else do people need batteries?”
I laughed, shrugged my shoulders and said, “Well… Looks like I’m going to get the batteries!”