« Five-Alarm Phone Sex | Main | Clay Aiken is an Angertwink, etc. »
November 20, 2006
Pilgrims & Indians: Part 1
I'm cooking a very traditional meal on Thursday. I told my parents they don't need to bring anything, but my mom insists on bringing canned corn. "I got the corn on sale at Tops, so let me bring it. And let me bring a pie (pronounced: pah)."
I wish they would fly here, but they insist on driving the seven hours, cuz it's "cheaper". They become such nervous nellies driving in the city. Last time they drove here, I met them out front to help them park. I saw a car slowly moving by, starting and stopping, starting and stopping. I waved at them. My mom saw me and smiled--frantically waving-- until a large SUV began blaring the horn at them. They hit the gas, drove through a stop sign, and attempted to drive down a one-way street the wrong way. I didn't see them again until an hour later. Apparently, they got caught in Dupont Circle doing a continuous loop. How they ended up several blocks from my place is still a mystery.
I told them that my Thanksgiving dinners are a little different than most, and that it's customary to dress up as a Pilgrim or Indian. "Your father is not gonna be no Pilgrim." "Then he can be an Indian. All he has to do is wear a feathered cap and perform a war cry before we eat." "I don't think so." "Then he'll have to be a Pilgrim or dress in drag-- it's what we do here in DC." "Y'all are weird in DC."
"Your father found a little mixer thing at a garage sale, that I think you'll like (pronounced: lock). You can make smoothies with it." I know what this means; she's trying to pawn the shit off on me. I think you'll like it is code for your dad is collecting shit and I want to get rid of it. "Okay, but we really don't have room for anything else."
"Well, I would also like (lock) to bring down some old 45's we don't listen to anymore. I think you can prolly git a few bucks out of 'em if you sell 'em on the eBay. There's even some Everly Brothers records in there that I'm sure are worth a pretty penny." Yes, Mom, emphasis on penny.
My dad has become obsessed with accumulating crap in his old age; so much so that my mom has banned him from Target. He has a secret stash of matchbox cars, baseball caps and beef jerky he keeps hidden in a bag in their garage. Whenever I go home, he takes me to the garage to show off all the cool things he found on sale. "Don't tell your mother though." Once he drops my mom off at work, he heads over to Kmart or Target and roams the aisles for unnecessary bargains.
The last few times they have visited, they have declined sleeping in our bed, which puzzles me. For years, they've always slept on sodomy central with no problems. I've surmised they must have found some santorum or something on the sheets and it has traumatized them. They now insist on sleeping on the futon in the spare room, a bed that no one in their 60's should be laying on. My dad is tall and has back problems, but they're very adament about sleeping there.
It doesn't help that my sister has a big ass house in Colorado that they are used to visiting. My sister brags, "Well, we have four different king-size beds they can choose from." To which I ask, "Where do you live again?" "The suburbs of Denver." "Thank you."
They are not coming down until Thanksgiving Day, but I have a feeling my dad is already warming up the car, waiting on my mother.
To be continued...
Posted by durban bud at November 20, 2006 12:34 PM
Comments
well I get to fly that direction too and I'm not looking forward to it, I'd rather be... well I'd rather be home. Have a good holiday and hope you managed to find all the lube bottles and poppers before they get there.
Posted by: Tim at November 20, 2006 07:16 PM
Never turn down free records!
Posted by: Dumbek at November 20, 2006 07:38 PM
Maybe it's the spectre of any of their children having sex? Or maybe they assume y'all have to have sex every single night, you know, because men are so naughty.
Posted by: carl at November 20, 2006 11:55 PM
I'm just the opposite. My partner and I won't sleep in any of the beds at my dad's or my brothers' houses although they keep insisting that we stay there. No dad, we're more comfortable in a hotel, thank you very much.
It all stems from a time when my brother, his wife and their five kids showed up needing a place to stay. Fine, cool and all that, but I'm bringing a trick home tonight, so don't be freaked out. My bro said at least it got his wife into the mood.
Posted by: Mike at November 21, 2006 10:29 AM
It is true... "Tops never stops saving you (or your mom) more".
Shit.. now childhood jingles are running through my head like a bad Tatu song...
"Ride the bus downtown this Christmas..."
"Come on down to Cole Muffler where service can't be beat..."
"Eastview Mall, just around the corner, Eastview Mall on Route 96.."
Posted by: Paul at November 21, 2006 02:43 PM
How did your dad lock the pre-dinner war cry?
Posted by: Chris at November 26, 2006 12:18 AM
Santorum. That's gold. Did you get that from Dan Savage?
Posted by: Lance at November 2, 2007 03:01 PM