Raskin Bobbdins

If you've spent any time with my family, you know that it can be difficult sometimes to get my dad to take things seriously. My dad has a joke for every situation. He also delights in embarrassing my mom, especially in public places.

As they shop, he walks funny and yells things at my mom in different voices, assuming the role of a few favorite characters:

• Enlarged Prostate Man has a bowlegged shuffle and calls after my mom, yelling "Honey! Wait for me!" while using his balled fists to propel his momentum. His pants are hitched up over his belly button.
• The Belly, a variation on Enlarged Prostate Man, also hitches his pants above his natural waist; in addition, he arches his back to round out his stomach like a globe, swaying side to side with each step. Sometimes he rubs his belly, saying "So-ahh....You know-ahh....Weeeeeeell.....!"
• The Old Fart wheezes a little and has a limp. He also farts loudly, waving his hand in front of his nose and shouting "Oooh, well paaaardon me!" and giggling slightly.
• Pegleg walks with one leg stiffened, dragging the shoe sideways. He sometimes has a harelip.
• Blindy shuffles slowly, making little headway. His reading glasses, if he has them, are pushed as far as possible down the bridge of his nose. Taking a bottle of something toxic off a store shelf, Blindy gestures at my mom, commanding her to read the label for him: "Are these the kind of instant mashed potatoes I like?" he'll ask, referring to the box of rat poison in his trembling hands. "Read this for me, I can't tell if this is motor oil or transmission fluid" he'll say, holding up a bottle of Italian salad dressing.
• The Incompetent has problems controlling his mouth and eyes, sometimes drooling, often pulling his lips down into a clown-like frown and opening his eyes wide, as if stunned. Sometimes there are strings of incoherent sounds.
• The Stroke, similar to pegleg, drags one leg. He also drools out of the side of his mouth.
• Pantsfull is...self-explanatory, I think. There's quite a bit of waddling.

People stare. Some laugh. Children point. My mom disappears down the next aisle while my dad chases after her, cackling.

In restaurants, my dad shows the server he needs a drink refill by getting up from the table with his empty glass and inquiring loudly where the refill station is. As he makes his way over, the server inevitably tries to stop him, insisting "Sir, let me do that for you" while my dad says "Thanks, but I can do it myself."

In Chinese restaurants, my dad insists on speaking a little Spanish.

At fast food drive-thru windows, my dad asks for his meal "to go." The teenagers whose voices blare through the intercom do not always get the joke.

Nothing infuriates my mom more than my dad's made up language, though. Over the years, my brothers and I have participated in hammering out the linguistic details, most of which seem to come naturally to us.

The language uses English words, but adds plosive/hard letters like p, d, and t between syllables or at the ends of words. For example, "coffee" becomes "cofftee" (this may have been the origin of the language, as my dad actually heard someone say this in conversation). Some words ending with -el or -le drop their real endings and peter out in an "o" sound. Here are some examples:

• Glasses --->Glasstes
• Capable--->Captable (not pronounced "cap table," though)
• Rubber--->Rubbder
• Slippers--->Slippters
• Dog--->Dogd
• Apple--->Apptle
• Applebee's--->Apptlebee'sd
• Burger King--->Burgder Kingd
• Logan's Roadhouse--->Rogan's Loadhouse (Aaron and I added this one; I have accidentally used it in conversation with "non-native" speakers)
• Rascal--->Rasto
• Weasel--->Weaso
• Bubble--->Bubbdo or Bubbo

The language has no formal name, but it is also peppered with malapropisms, reversals and turns of phrase from several family friends. For example:

• Sombrero--->Lombardo
• Flabbergasted--->Fiberglassted
• Bereavement--->Begrievement
• Reba McIntyre--->Reeva McIntosh

 My dad measures the success of his shenanigans based on the shrillness and volume of my mom's voice. As her annoyance level rises, her indignant bursts of "Mike! Stop it!" become increasingly deafening. His power to bug the shit out of my mom fully registered one time when we were in the car, driving down Euclid Avenue on a Sunday. I don't remember what year it was, exactly, but Aaron and I were dating, and he was at CMU, so it was sometime between 2002 and 2005. Mom was trying to make a point to Dad, but he kept interrupting her, naming the restaurants and businesses we passed:

Mom: So I think we should--
Dad: Oh, there's Tacto Bellt!
Mom:--stop at Kroger--
Dad:You mean Krogder?
Mom: Mike, stop it! Will you just listen for a minute?
Dad: Listen? (spelled the same, but with a pronounced "t" and said with a sly grin)
Mom (with increasing agitation): Honey! Cut it out!
Dad: You mean Hontey. Oh, Hontey, don't get mad!
Mom: Mike! That's stupid! I hate that!
Dad: Hey, you wanna get ice cream at Raskin Bobbdins? They have 31 flavdors!
Mom: MIKE!

I still giggle every time I pass a Baskin Robbins.