So I get this cryptic email from my Daddy on Saturday. It says: "We don't keep in touch enough. Thanks for the birthday card. Helen brought it and your sister's card to me in jail. It was a real pick-me-up."
THAT'S IT. No explanation, just the carrot. Of course, I took the bait, and called him immediately. I was even more upset when his wife answered the phone, and I cut off her cheerful greeting:
ME: "Helen, why is my dad in jail??"
Helen: "Oh, he's not dear, I bailed him out. He's out back talking to the chickens."
ME: "Can I speak to him please?"
By the time he gets in from the coop, I'm calmer, only because, and I cannot make this up, the birthday card I sent him said this: (on the outside) "You're the best dad in the world!" (On the inside:) "Remember that if I ever call you to bail me out of jail." No lie. Just the thought of him opening that card while sitting on his ass in jail made me giggle. (Side note: I've never been arrested in my life.)
So, instead of saying: "WTF??" which was my knee jerk reaction originally, I said instead: "Well, I guess my birthday card was apropos?!"
Turns out Daddy dearest (who has rescinded from society, long story) had a 4 year old bench warrant out on an unresolved traffic violation. He had a hallmark birthday this year: 70, so the memory must be going. He admits he forgot to renew his tags. When they pulled him over for expired tags and discovered an old warrant: voila! You get to spend your 70th birthday in the clink sir!
Just another day in the life of my pops, but I'm way too old to be worrying about my prostate cancer-ridden father sharing a cell with Joe Biker the cop killer in the county lock up. As he says: "All's well that ends well, daughter." Oy vey.