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Sunday, July 25, 2004 · posted at 12:33 PM

Surely you jest. It's odd for me to think of parents as people. I found an old photo album once that had pictures of my parents as twentysomethings. I think they were with friends hanging out at the beach or some other nature-y setting. There may have even been a beer bottle in the picture. I can't fathom the idea of my parents being carefree young adults... you mean they didn't just start their lives as stressed-out, responsible thirtysomethings?

I've never been one to really relate to my parents. My suitemate in college was constantly attached to the phone chatting with her mother. Like EVERY day, sometimes more than once a day depending on whether she had had a midterm that day, talked to the cute boy down the hall, or just wanted to share that she ate chicken nuggets for dinner. Needless to say, I was shocked. What the hell was going on? Is this that urban legend I'd always heard about? People... actually able to communicate with their parents. What a novel idea.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and all that jazz. I just never thought your parents were supposed to be your friends. It's always been difficult to talk with my parents. Oh yes, I have been talked TO plenty of times, but I'm talking about an interaction where both parties are able to speak and be heard.

One problem talking with my dad is that he's hard of hearing and every conversation is a funneling of the ear and then nodding, regardless of the question. For example, if I asked, "What do you think of the Terminator as governor?" he'll say "Ohhh" and then nod. Hrmm? Maybe this hard of hearing thing is genetic (or generic as my parents might say) because I often find myself not hearing a question/statement/blatant insult and smiling and nodding. What? Whhaat? Okay! Ye-ah!

And my mom.. it's just hard to connect with my mom - I mean, the woman doesn't even think Brad Pitt is hot! Clearly this is not a reasonable woman.

Aside from that, it's just hard to talk to her. Her dialogue is more along the lines of "these potatoes are so creamy. Mary mashed them" than anything serious. Usually I'm just the warm body in the room sitting through her detailed theories on topics such as why the neighbor's dog is barking, why the People magazine didn't come in the mail, and why I never developed a full rack.

Something incredible happened when I went home a few weekends ago. I spent 4 hours alone with my dad (and his hearing aid) - and neither of us experienced homicidal or suicidal ("just shoot me now") thoughts. More over, it was enjoyable yet enlightening:

Signs your parents don't know you:
I asked my dad if he wanted grandkids and he was like "Oh I don't care. Is no difference to me," which is a refreshing change from my mom's mantra that "Two is better than one and everybody has to get married." Then he asked, "Why, do you have one?"

Now it's not like I see my parents once in a blue moon. I go home at least once a month, so it's not like I could have popped one out in between visits. I wondered if maybe he had gotten his words mixed up and meant to ask, "Why, are you having one?" but even that is not much better because if I was, I certainly would not tell him while sitting a traffic light on the way to Marukai.

Signs you don't know your parents:
I mentioned that I was going to a baby shower and my dad asked if the mom-to-be was married (she's not) and my dad responded with, "That's okay." Huh? What? My dad is okay with the idea of wedlock and premarital sex? This is as shocking as when he told me that how much money you make is not as important as finding a job/lifestyle that makes you happy. I'd heard that a side effect of my dad's thyroid medications is elevated mood, but wow!

Signs you have more in common with your parents than previously thought:
My dad has discovered the internet. I knew that he loves Sina.com and even has an e-mail account, but he's even discovered the wonderful world of registries - which he thinks is the best thing since sliced bread. "They just make a list of what they want and you pick one. So easy!"

My dad turned to me and asked, "Do you want to go to Tuesday Morning? Do you know what it is?" DO I? Tuesday Morning, where all the pots, pans, and assorted cookery in the kitchen came from? Tuesday Morning, whose mailer I would get so excited over? Tuesday Morning, where my roommate and I would drag ourselves at 7 in the morning for their sale events?

Dad - you are your daughter's father.

Happy Parents' Day.



	Sunday, July 25, 2004 · posted at 12:33 PM Surely you jest. It's odd for me to think of parents as people. I found an old photo album once that had pictures of my parents as twentysomethings. I think they were with friends hanging out at the beach or some other nature-y setting. There may have even been a beer bottle in the picture. I can't fathom the idea of my parents being carefree young adults... you mean they didn't just start their lives as stressed-out, responsible thirtysomethings? I've never been one to really relate to my parents. My suitemate in college was constantly attached to the phone chatting with her mother. Like EVERY day, sometimes more than once a day depending on whether she had had a midterm that day, talked to the cute boy down the hall, or just wanted to share that she ate chicken nuggets for dinner. Needless to say, I was shocked. What the hell was going on? Is this that urban legend I'd always heard about? People... actually able to communicate with their parents. What a novel idea. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and all that jazz. I just never thought your parents were supposed to be your friends. It's always been difficult to talk with my parents. Oh yes, I have been talked TO plenty of times, but I'm talking about an interaction where both parties are able to speak and be heard. One problem talking with my dad is that he's hard of hearing and every conversation is a funneling of the ear and then nodding, regardless of the question. For example, if I asked, "What do you think of the Terminator as governor?" he'll say "Ohhh" and then nod. Hrmm? Maybe this hard of hearing thing is genetic (or generic as my parents might say) because I often find myself not hearing a question/statement/blatant insult and smiling and nodding. What? Whhaat? Okay! Ye-ah! And my mom.. it's just hard to connect with my mom - I mean, the woman doesn't even think Brad Pitt is hot! Clearly this is not a reasonable woman. Aside from that, it's just hard to talk to her. Her dialogue is more along the lines of "these potatoes are so creamy. Mary mashed them" than anything serious. Usually I'm just the warm body in the room sitting through her detailed theories on topics such as why the neighbor's dog is barking, why the People magazine didn't come in the mail, and why I never developed a full rack. Something incredible happened when I went home a few weekends ago. I spent 4 hours alone with my dad (and his hearing aid) - and neither of us experienced homicidal or suicidal ("just shoot me now") thoughts. More over, it was enjoyable yet enlightening: Signs your parents don't know you: I asked my dad if he wanted grandkids and he was like "Oh I don't care. Is no difference to me," which is a refreshing change from my mom's mantra that "Two is better than one and everybody has to get married." Then he asked, "Why, do you have one?" Now it's not like I see my parents once in a blue moon. I go home at least once a month, so it's not like I could have popped one out in between visits. I wondered if maybe he had gotten his words mixed up and meant to ask, "Why, are you having one?" but even that is not much better because if I was, I certainly would not tell him while sitting a traffic light on the way to Marukai. Signs you don't know your parents: I mentioned that I was going to a baby shower and my dad asked if the mom-to-be was married (she's not) and my dad responded with, "That's okay." Huh? What? My dad is okay with the idea of wedlock and premarital sex? This is as shocking as when he told me that how much money you make is not as important as finding a job/lifestyle that makes you happy. I'd heard that a side effect of my dad's thyroid medications is elevated mood, but wow! Signs you have more in common with your parents than previously thought: My dad has discovered the internet. I knew that he loves Sina.com and even has an e-mail account, but he's even discovered the wonderful world of registries - which he thinks is the best thing since sliced bread. "They just make a list of what they want and you pick one. So easy!" My dad turned to me and asked, "Do you want to go to Tuesday Morning? Do you know what it is?" DO I? Tuesday Morning, where all the pots, pans, and assorted cookery in the kitchen came from? Tuesday Morning, whose mailer I would get so excited over? Tuesday Morning, where my roommate and I would drag ourselves at 7 in the morning for their sale events? Dad - you are your daughter's father. Happy Parents' Day.	Recent Posts The one with the boobies. Galvez has a theory that... Author's note: Some programs are required to have ... Blind leading the blind. What do you do when instr... Dress your family in corduroy and denim. Guys ofte... Excuse me, but my Rorschach blot has wrinkles. Ha... Child's play. I’m not sure I quite understand the ... 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