A quick history: My Dad smells. It is not body oder (at least the brunt of it, ha ha), cologne or other intended scents, it is cigars. He has taking to smoking the cheapest of the cheap, smelly cigars. Not just once in a while, but whenever he can.
Take last Wednesday. He was kind enough to help me move my boat from mooring to boatyard. First thing in the am (8:30 to you), he has already puffed one down. We motor the boatyard in a death-defying game with the speedy current and dock the Pear. He offers to go get the truck, parked a little bit away so we can load up the mast. Great. I remove the sails and get the mast ready to go and... where did he go? 15-30 minutes later of me doing nothing but getting frustrated as I hear his voice as he chats up some curmudgeon scraping barnacles off his hull. And he is smoking another cigar.
Anyhow, enough of my frustrations with this and other issues withe my Dad.
We are driving yesterday back from somewhere when Ian confides in us, "when I grow up, I am going to smoke cigars." Are you frickin kidding me??? It was good that Mel was driving, cause I would have slammed on the brakes, pulled over the side and giving the kid a beat down. A little extreme sure; but try to imagine your 3 year old saying it.
So he and I had a long talk and in truth, he seems to have gotten soda (another forbidden fruit) and cigars mixed up in his head, but the fact remains he said it. I told him that cigars bring death (see mouth Cancer, one of the most malignant types and one of the highest mortality rate for all the malignants); stench and no fun. I think he only understood the last two.
There is hope, my Dad says he will go on the patch to try to quit. He hasn't heard the above bit, maybe it will help...
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