i know it’s been a month.
apparently, i call my parents every weekend now. i got an email form my mother last monday that said, “you must have been busy this weekend – you didn’t call.” which, of course, made me feel like a negligent daughter. until i remembered that, had they been in dire need of my nasally voice on the line, they would have called me. so, today i called my parents.
my 20-year-old brother answered the phone first. we shared some small talk. he’s tranferring to my alma mater (so proud!) this august. he’s not excited yet, although he did tell me that he plans to blow up the world with his psychology degree. then dad picked up another extension and brought some fart humor to the exchange. then my brother yelled, “clean out my slippers!”
it was at this point that my mother decided to have one of the kids go out to the car and get dad’s father’s day gift to open – since we were all “here at once” anyway. a fight ensued, and my brother said to my sister, “remember that time you were born last? that means you get to do all of the crap work.” i, of course, told him not to talk like that, also stop fighting about doing something for dad in front of dad, and go get the present. his response: “mom went to get it.” classic.
the present was a clam steamer, and my dad’s glee was complete. “oooo-hooooo-hooooooo-hoo-hoo baby” was the response i told my mom we would get. we got that and so much more. there was a picture of a lobster on the box, so this began my brother’s periodic utternaces of “ROCK LOBSTER” throughout the rest of the conversation. at one point, he said it approximately every ten seconds, until i was laughing and weezing so hard i thought i would fall over.
other highlights of the conversation:
me threatening my brother’s life if he ever “smoked the cheeba” and my insistence that it really is a gateway drug. he said “maybe you could go tell the fifth graders about that.”
learning that my dad does, in fact, wear a T-shirt in public (at least, to K-mart) that says, “What can I say – I’m Bob.”