I've always loved hanging out with my dad

I love how he questions everything like nothing is real anymore, and thus pulls a joke on every situation, forgets his mobile+keys+purse in the city, then laments how poor he actually is while reciting his twenty latest purchases, thinks that farting in public is funny, then giggles like an old witch before he gets hooked on something more interesting. He's like five toddlers in one. You know, toddlers in their fifties. Another minute, another drama.
If only my mother had a percent of his humor, we could just meet and chat and have a good time in spite of anything that happened. Sigh...