We’re on vacation. I have a tube of henna in my backpack. I ask my dad if I can give him a henna wedding ring, since his hand is all twisted and he can’t wear his any more. He agrees.
After I’ve put in the henna, he asks how long he has to wait until he can peel it off. I tell him 45 minutes. He sighs and gets comfortable, and then suddenly launches into his ENTIRE FLIPPING LIFE STORY. He starts talking about the hospital he was born in and how big he was and his old house and the time he hit himself in the head with a hammer, like he’s being interviewed for some big TV special. He’s engrossed. I’m engrossed. It’s awesome. I suddenly wish I was filming him. This goes on in incredible detail for some time.
Finally he looks at me, very chill and satisfied with himself, and asks how long it’s been since I put the henna on. I look at my phone and burst out laughing.
It’s only been three minutes.
And he just looks at me with the most DEFEATED LOOK I have EVER SEEN on a grown man’s face because he’s SUCH and impatient child and I just