Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

ecipe book called How to Cook for One While Drunk.
September 7, 1990
Emerald Isle
Mom left the beach a day early. Paul drove her. She seems to be in poor health lately. She coughs
and hacks a lot more than usual. The sound of it brings out the worst in me (said the guy with a
cigarette in his mouth). It’s bad, though. We call her Mount Vesuvius. She spent a lot of time indoors
on this trip.
September 19, 1990
Raleigh
A joke Dean told me:
Q. What is it in the air in San Francisco that keeps women from getting pregnant?
A. Men’s legs.
September 25, 1990
Raleigh
Last night Dad predicted that six months from now I’ll regret ever having left Chicago. He’s been a
real terror lately. An hour later he yelled at me for picking up a meatball with my fingers. It was on a
dish in the refrigerator and he accused me of touching a lot of them before deciding on the largest. I
think he worries that I’m spreading AIDS. He doesn’t like me drinking out of anyone else’s glass
either.
Dad doesn’t pay attention when you talk to him, so Paul’s taken to throwing the term IRS into his
sentences. Then it’s suddenly: “Hold on a second, what did you say?”
October 2, 1990
Raleigh
I’m in the breakfast nook, drinking a cup of coffee, when, out of nowhere, Dad wants to talk. “I
have something important I need to discuss.”
Then he decides that he has to take Melina for a walk. Ten minutes later, he returns and slams a
coaster on the table—which is made of Formica, not wood—and anyway I have my cup on one of the
ten catalogs that arrive in the mailbox every morning. Then we go to the A&P and the entire time
we’re in the car, he talks to the dog instead of me. As we walk into the store, he confides that his