My father is deaf. He lost his hearing due to an injury at a very young age, but because this injury was caused by abuse, it was not addressed and thus he was not provided with any deaf-specific resources until he was an adult. Thus, he speaks and does not sign often. You need to know this to understand the rest.
I was... probably about 16 at the time. My sisters, my parents, and I were gathered around the table eating dinner one day. We were having a very heated discussion about school politics, since I had one sister with a school-aged son, one sister starting college to become a teacher, me finishing high school, and my parents considering their retirement strategies from their own teaching jobs.
I believe the particular topic was regarding standardized testing and how stupid it is. We were all in agreement we just collectively get loud when we're passionate.
Anyway after a yelling match about what should be done to replace standardized testing, which we were NOT in agreement about, everyone at the table turns to look at my father who technically has the most experience and is the only one who has served in an administrative role in education.
Dad chews his food very thoughtfully. Ponders a moment. And then says a single word.
Apparently, according to him, he'd stopped being able to understand us (an unfortunately common occurance, due to his disability, and one he's never felt comfortable interrupting to ask us to help him catch up) and thought we'd switched topics to what we should have for dessert. And, because of this, he thought the question we'd asked of "what do you think, dad?" was talking about what type of pastry we should try making. In his mind:
"We should replace [?????????] and it'd be better for everyone and we'd all like it more! Who doesn't love st[???????]y?ing? and then we could have more time for [?????????] and then we'd actually a?ae?[?????]t it. What do you think, dad?"
To which he thought, well, everyone here likes fruit. So. "Strawberry".
The hearing folks of the table also paused. Then burst out laughing. Dad laughs too. He realizes that he's guessed wrong. We realize what's happened. We catch him up to speed. He replies, I still think strawberry is a good answer.
14 years later, every once in a while during a heated family discussion, he gets a twinkle in his eye. A little mischevious smile. And when the table asks him for his thoughts, he strokes his chin like a goddamned cartoon character and says: "Strawberry."
To this day, it cuts through whatever family tension is going on, and results in us laughing to the point of tears.
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