My sister and I never really bonded. Our parents split up when she was young. I lived with Dad, while she lived with Mom. Dad also got custody of the cat because the judge found him to be a Highly Responsible Individual. A year later, I went to college (read: moved far, far away from those lunatics).
Now that she's all grown up, I've been trying to bond with her. The problem is that we really don't share any common interests. I like shoes, she wears combat boots. With everything. I like men, she likes women who look like men. I like pinot, she likes Smirnoff Ice.
I love the kid. I really do. Sure, I was a bad babysitter. And sure, I scammed her out of her birthday money and inheritance, but that's all water under the bridge. We are grown ups now. It's time for us to bond.
Recently, she mentioned to me that Dad writes personal ads. Writes and responds to personal ads. I know myself. I cannot let an opportunity like this slip away. We settled down to our laptops and searched for his ad. He's pretty easy to identify. Bob Dylan, former smoker, Socialist, dog lover. We had him.
Y'all without sin can cast the first stone.
We posted an ad. "Barbara" is 50, looks 49. Loves comedy and Dylan. Finds men with grown, yet immature children irresistably sexy. Loves dogs.
We left him a message. I did the talking because I am the one who can alter my voice without giggling. I mentioned that I look like Betty Aberlin (Dad made me watch "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood" because he had a crush on Lady Aberlin).
Thus far, has worked like magic. Barbara and Dad have date this weekend.
He better not try anything funny.