A dictionary is a book of words

As my parents and I are sitting at Tim Horton’s and drinking coffee, the conversation veers into something controversial that my mother doesn’t have a good concept of. She immediately sides with the ‘non-guilty’ party and this pisses my father off.

“You’re being naïve,” he tells her from across the table.

“Naïve? What’s that?” she almost yells back. I bring my mug close to my mouth and blow away some steam.

“Naïve…” My father waves his hand around. “It’s someone who’s innocent and stupid.”

I almost spit out my coffee into the mug while trying to stifle a laugh.

“What?” My mother gives me the evil eye. “You like to make fun of your mother, don’t you?” She points at me and at my father with her index finger.

“No, I’m not.”

“Then what?!”

“I’m actually surprised dad got the term naïve right. He usually uses the wrong word to try and describe something.” And, it’s true.

My father has a bad habit of describing certain people, places, or things while using the wrong words. He still doesn’t know what ironic means, even after having me teach him several times and using it in context (and in several languages). When he runs off to pick up a dictionary to prove me wrong, he gets peeved because he realizes I’m right all along. Afterwards, he uses the excuse that he shouldn’t know what certain words mean because he didn’t get to go to University like I did (which doesn’t make any sense because I still look in the dictionary to verify words I’m not sure of – unlike him).

Hmmm... I wonder if he looked up naïve in the dictionary before leaving the house.