Well, my Sunday included all three, and strangely, they were interconnected.
As we all know, last Sunday was Father's Day -- or in Laurie-speak, Dad Dude's Day (ahhhh, I do love alliteration) -- and it was the aim of Katie and I to honor thy father, and in her case, thy grandfather.
But before we left, I took a few calls. One caller was inquiring about her mother and how she was instructing my caller to buy Dad Dude what mom really wanted, and come over and cook what, again, mom wanted.
This was not unusual behavior for this caller's female parental unit, but still, it was just one more example of a continually irritating behavior pattern.
When my caller insisted on speaking to dear old dad herself and asked, "What do YOU want," his answer was, "Whatever you choose is fine."
The next caller's White Knight Dude is constantly saving his ex-wife from her latest adventures in helplessness, such as changing a bandaid or finding her lost keys, and my caller was mad as hell. Very simply, this dude's ex has found a very passive-agressive way of controlling him.
After signing off, Katie and I set out to the Dad Dude's house for dinner, which Mom claimed she was preparing. When we arrived, however, who should we find slaving over a hot barbeque but none other than Dad.
Now considering the fact that on Mother's Day, I had delivered dinner, dessert and gift to the ole' homestead, I kinda screamed "Foul!" But as per usual, Mom shrugged and said, "He doesn't care."
Now since I happened to notice a theme here, my little overly-analytical mind started spinning like a house in Kansas during hurricane season.
On this occasion, I found myself tut-tutting about these controlling and overbearing women and the poor dudes that must put up with them.
But while I was busy feeling sorry for them, I realized I had no reason to. The reason they find themselves in this situation is merely because they choose to be there. They choose not to make waves.
It's sort of the "squeaky wheel gets the grease" theory. Now while I was briefly envious of the manner in which these women get what they want, I soon realized that this was not a path I would choose to traverse.
Would I really want to be that screeching wheel or crank up waves on a par with a tsunami to get what I wanted? The answer is absolutely positively not, and I suddenly found myself pitying both the "hell hath no fury" women and the dudes that choose to allow this behavior.
So next time you start envying the woman whose man says, "How high," when she says, "Jump," stop and think about what it really means and if this is the kind of woman you would like to become.
Oh, and the dent part of the day? When it came time to drive Katie down to her dance class, I was busy, and manipulated the situation in my favor by declaring that my father's driving Katie to dance a wonderful Father's Day bonding activity (since Katie just happens to be his favorite person in the whole universe), and he should take her.
He shrugged and agreed to do so. Although I felt a small sense of guilt because my motive consisted more of laziness than altruism, those guilt feelings did not compare to what I felt as I watched my father back straight out of the garage and into the side of my car.
Strange how sometimes karma moves at the speed of light now, isn't it?