When my dad turned 40 he had a mid-life crisis. One night at dinner he just started yelling. “Goddamn it,” he shouted, “I bust my ass for twenty years at the firm and for what? So I can sit here eating this horrible food with my ugly wife and my retard son?” I felt kind of bad when he said that. I mean I don’t get the best grades but I work really hard, especially on dinner. And my mom may not be pretty but she has nice tits.
The next day we traded in our minivan and bought a Lamborghini. Then we traded in the Lamborghini for a race-car. Dad stopped going to work and just hung around the house with professional wrestlers. Then we had to live on a glacier.
But my dad still seemed kind of depressed. “What’s the point of all this?” he’d often ask. And I’d have to explain the rules of Monopoly again for like the 900th time. And he’d say “No, not that, though I still don’t really understand the rules. I mean life. What’s the point of life?” So then I’d explain philosophy and religion, but before I even got to the Enlightenment he’d just shake his head and kick over the monopoly board. He wasn’t upset or anything. He just thinks that’s how you play the game.
At this point my mother had had enough. The glacier had collapsed and she was trapped under 50 feet of ice. So dad introduced me to my new mom, the Brazilian girls volleyball team.
Finally, my dad seemed happy again. One day he told me his secret. “You know what’s really important?” he said as he took me on his knee, “The little things… mice, babies, electrons, elephants.” He was just kidding about the elephants.
