Also lol my dad. In the process of moving some stuff home while I look for a new place and my dad raids my bags for clothing to wash, citing that I'm "a dirty person who never washes his pants."
Anyways I get back a little while ago and he's folding my clothes and as he's folding these nonnative cropped cargo pants (it has huuuge pockets) he goes: "What is this made in japan shit? It's so hard to fold. Why did you buy this? It's like some shit samurais wear"
Hah, my parents are absolutely fucking amazing. Now that I have been living on my own for a while they baby me constantly when I'm home to visit, even though back when I was younger I was always about an inch away from getting smacked. Dad cooks the most amazing Vietnamese food and I'm lucky that I've picked up a lot from him since a lot of dishes you can't order. Parents rule, ya'll.
And he always wore Drakkar Noir, so no matter what people say about that fragrance I always like it.