When nickyskye met my dad... →[More:]So, I got a call from my mom this morning, asking me if I had a friend named Nicky who lived in New York. "Ummmm....yes," I told her.
"Hold on," she said. "You need to talk to your dad."
My dad has a really bad memory which he combines with a refusal to admit it. Apparently, nickyskye called the funeral home last night and asked for "George", which is my name and his name, and he was embarrassed to say that he didn't know who she was. So, he pretended that he did. The two of them had a lovely, if somewhat confusing, conversation that lasted about
half an hour!
Among the things they talked about were the hurricane and the aftermath and my dad's bout with bladder cancer, which nickyskye assumed was MY bladder cancer (which she wondered why I've never mentioned before).
He asked me this morning and said, "Do you know anybody named Nicky in New York?" "Ummm...yes?" "You should call her. She thinks you have cancer." "Ummm...why would she think that?"
I sent an email to nicky to sort it out and it turns out that she never even considered that it was not me. She did think that my voice sounded a bit older than she expected, but otherwise... She and I have had a great laugh about it.