This weekend I’m heading home to celebrate my father’s birthday.
Dad’s birthdays are always pretty low-key. Whenever somebody asks him what he wants, he shrugs and says, “Nothing,” and he means it, so usually the only present he gets is our presence, and maybe a thousdandth oven mitt. Well, and a mayonnaise cake.
What’s that? You’ve never heard of mayonnaise cake? It’s just a chocolate cake but instead of eggs and oil you use big sloppy globs of mayonnaise. It was my dad’s mom’s recipe from a long time ago, and heaven only knows where she got it. Maybe she made it up. Mayonnaise really is sort of indicative of Bagley cooking. It could only be more Baglian if it were doused in cheap bourbon and infused with chunks of raccoon.
I kid, I kid.
We really prefer possum.
So, I was going to write a little ‘Why My Dad Is Cool’ piece, but I think instead I’ll just post something that I found in his yearbook the other day.
My father went to a small high school, and so at the end of his senior year book there were a few pages devoted to what they expected of each student. Mostly things like, “Sally will become a beautician and work with supermodels,” or “Ernie will become the president’s Secretary Of State.”
My father’s read:
“Bill will become an award-winning physicist. His greatest achievement will come when he invents a laser that will burn a hole in the moon, sinking it.”
And that is a succinct description of Dad.