My father, Papi, as we call him, used to say the funniest things. Still does on the occasion I get to spend more time with him.
One day while working on a land survey with him, we got to talking about where the name ‘Stephens’ came from.
"It’s a viking name" he said to me. "Actually papi, it’s a name from the British isles, an English name", I responded.
"No, it’s a viking norman name" he insisted.
"Well maybe originally" says I, "but more recently an english name".
Looking thoughtful and hopeful all at once, he said, “I bet they were the really nasty vikings.”
I laughed so hard. Maybe I was just in a giddy mood, but it struck me as very funny, and you would agree with me if you knew my father. He revels in the extreme and shocking. Comments like “I’m about to pee my britches” are not uncommon to hear while working with him. He gets frustrates so easily and takes on an ‘Australian-g’day-mate’ accent when frustrated with the surveying instruments.
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