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My dad was doing his very best impression of a 3-toed sloth on my last visit home. He wasn’t shaky or anything, he was just reaaaaaallllllyyyyyy slllllloooooowwwwwww. It took a full minute to go from standing immediately outside the car door to actually sitting in the seat. And he was kind of leaning back when he walked like a pregnant lady. So maybe he was trying to be a pregnant sloth. And when we finally got him to Bodo’s, his favorite bagel shop, I led him to the booth and had to basically use all of my body weight to slide him in far enough to sit next to him. I started shouting, “heave ho!” which he thought was pretty damn funny but which did not actually make him move over at all. I was sweating and had tears in my eyes from laughing by the time I got him in, and most of the restaurant was looking at us like we were crazy. I think he secretly just didn’t want to scootch over any more than that because he wanted to be really close and snuggly while we ate.

If you haven’t already joined the Church of Blogessianism, you need to. Now. I’ll wait. http://thebloggess.com/2014/11/the-church-of-bloggessianism-choose-your-title-strangelings/

Since one of the perks of being a Bloggessian is that you get an official I-Can-Hold-a-Sloth-Because-It’s-Against-My-Religion-Not-To card, I think it’s only right that the card also allows you to hug my dad.  You won’t be sorry you did.

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