The Intellectual Father

“Dad, did you know I think you’re the smartest person in the whole wide world? You’re a real intellectual.  I don’t think there is anything that you don’t know dad.” 

Dad pulls away from his computer and leans back in his chair. “I try hard, son.  Leonard, some things in life are important. Is that it, son?  I really need to get back to work. I’m doing the math to show the world how long it will take for a prisoner to dig his way out of prison using only a spoon—a teaspoon—not a tablespoon, son. Be about your way.” 

“I figure it like this dad.  How often do I see you? Do you know that I feel like I must make an appointment to see you dad?”

“Well, I do have a big cranium.  It takes a lot of brains to do what I do, Leonard. You, yourself, said it. I’m an intellectual.  I don’t have time for mundane things.”

 “Gee whiz, dad.  I am your kid. I am going to be just like you.  You know everything.”

“Yes, I really do son.” 

“Um, dad, I want to be just like you.”

“I’m honored.  Now be about your way, son.”

“Just a question, dad.  I was wondering if you know anything about cocktails?”

“Absolutely, I know quite a bit. I’m the best bartender in the world.   I can mix it son.  I know my drinks.”

“Um, I was thinking more about a Molotov cocktail.  Do you know how to prepare that too, dad?  I know you do.  You’re the smartest man in the world.”

Dad grins from ear to ear.  “Well, a Molotov cocktail. Let me think.  A Molotov cocktail, hum. First things first.  You will need an empty beer bottle, an old cloth or a T-shirt, gasoline, Petrol, and some matches………………and that’s how you make and use a Molotov cocktail, son.  Now be about your way.

A week later 

Dad’s on a business trip 3,000 miles away from home.  He and a lady friend return to his hotel room.  Dad makes drinks and turns on the T.V. to watch the national news.  “This is unusual,” the reporter comments.  “Cars left at the airport are usually unharmed.  It’s a miracle.  The Rolls Royce, apparently set ablaze, by a Molotov cocktail.  It seems that the suspect only intended to destroy the Rolls Royce.  It did not take firefighters long to put the fire out.  Due to heavy fumes and smoke the airport is… again, no one was hurt.  Investigators say the owner of the vehicle, Leonard Crane, Sr. is apparently out of town…. the suspect apparently fled….. police are at Mr. Crane’s…..…no motive…no charges will be filed.”

 The phone in Dad’s hotel room is ringing…..ringing……ringing. His mind is flashing….flashing….flashing…………….

Vivian Dixon Sober©
All Rights Reserved

Protected by Copyscape Web Plagiarism Scanner


2 thoughts on “The Intellectual Father

  1. When I was a kid all parents would have been in jail for child abuse.
    No agency interjection to help. Our parents didn’t play. We got beatings by them or by their friends. If their friends caught us, just call it a community problem. Discipline!

    We didn’t have agencies to give children power over their parents. Even so, parents back then didn’t care. They’d beat your butt and pack your bags.

    My parents worked full-time as did the rest. When did things change? Did parents really stop caring? My mom took us to church and taught us to fear God. She placed the fear of her in us. Even today, before I do certain things, I think about my parents—even though my father’s in the ground. Our parents were not always right, but they kept us in line.

    The motto: “Kids are seen but not heard.” I never believed in that.

    We couldn’t even explain ourselves–let alone ask inappropriate questions. Bam! Slam! Take that. Why are we on the ground because we have sounds?

    Children are little people. They have a voice. Do you know the sound of your child’s voice or what’s on his or her mlnd? It is all about respect. Take the time! Take the time! Make the time!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s