Sunday, March 31, 2013

Relish the Moment

Tonight at Easter dinner:

Me: I don't know why we have the pickles and olives, no one eats those.

Mom: That's not true! Grandpa does. The relish tray is a tradition.

Dad: Relish? That is not relish. Why do you call it relish?

Mom: It is, that's what it's called.

Me: She's right, it is.

Dad: Ashley, relishes are red and they grow in the ground.

Me: ...radishes? You're talking about radishes.

Dad: Relishes. Don't be ridiculous.

Me: ....?

(Remembering that my mom had hoped we wouldn't argue. She was shaking her head behind him.)

Dad, you know how chopped up pickles on a hot dog is called relish?

He shook his head. I know he knows this. I saw a glimmer of recognition right then, like maybe relishes aren't red and don't grow in the ground--but he is not the sort to be wrong.

Dad: (pointing to the tray) That is not relishes. I know what a relish is.

Me: Okay. You're right.

But it's not a radish either, I added quietly under my breath.

And then I let it go.

Because if Jesus can rise from the dead, I can let my dad think he's right when he's wrong. Just this once.

2 comments:

Nikki T. said...

Thanks for the laugh!! It reminds me of a conversation with my brother-in-law in which he wanted everyone to start being more "Pacific" with him.

Mom Taxi Julie said...

haha I would have googled it on my phone to prove I was right. I'm bad about that though ;)