I have known all my life. Every single day I have suspected that my father had a second life of which he had never informed me. Above you'll see a picture of my father on Valentine's Day with my mother. But who is this man? Who is he really? The answer:
Yes, my father is the spitting image of Fred Flintstone, and seeing as how I have never seen the two in the same place at the same time, I can rightly assume that he is in fact this caveman in his second life.
There has been numerous times throughout my life where I KNEW something fishy was going on, when we would be driving in the family mini van and he would slam his feet through the floor of the car, cursing that he didn't understand why he couldn't just make the car go fast with the skin of his feet like every other Bedrockian, to which he quickly corrected himself saying "Amurican" obviously misprouncing "American".
On numerous occassions he would refer to me as "his little Pebbles" and would fly off the handle when the toaster would refuse to say, "Eh, its a living."
The most glaring offense was when he comically struck himself over the head with a bowling ball. Quickly rushing to his aid, I inquired as to whether or not he needed me to call an ambulance, to which he replied that "I just need to walk it off with a Bronto Burger." I exclaimed that I had no idea what that was, which caused him to lash out by yelling "Barney!" at me.
Will he ever reveal the truth I wonder?