Tag Archives: parents

The Easter Bunny Can Suck It

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It’s Easter.  I’m sitting next to my dad in church.  All of the sudden, right before the service starts he turns to me and grabs my arm:

Dad: Oh, you know what?

Me: What’s that?

Dad: I heard Yanni is coming out with a new CD.

If this conversation isn’t the right way to kick off Easter, I don’t know anything.  You know, I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but Easter just isn’t what it used to be.  Nice new bonnet.  An Easter basket half the size of my room, with giant, oversized pixie stix and Reese’s eggs cascading out of it like a waterfall...it’s beauty only to be matched by the monstrocity of a stuffed rabbit that accompanied the basket.  All these things are but a distant memory, like braces, and Big League Chew.

scan00011So I’m chillin with the fam.  UPDATE: In case it crossed your mind, my grandma was wearing the same polyester, frog green pants that she wore on Thanksgiving, as chronicled in Black Friday, Depression, and a Salvation Army Chair.  So I go to sit next to my aunt on the couch and this happens:

Me: HGTV?  Really?

Aunt:  Well, we could watch a movie.  I have Marley and Me, did you say you’ve seen that already?

Me: Yea.  It was good, and I don’t think anyone else has seen it.

Aunt: So it was good?  Want me to put that in then?

Me: I mean, I don’t care.  I’m just working on these articles.  So it makes no difference, whatever everyone else wants to do.

Aunt: [turns to my uncle] Honey, Britteny said for you to put in Marley and Me.  She wants to watch it.

Me: [interrupts] No, I did not.  That’s not what I said.  I said I’ve already seen it and I don’t care.  You said you wanted to watch it.

Aunt: Well, I know.  But if I say that you’re the one who wants to watch it, he’ll just put it in.

Me: Sigh.

Aunt: Uh oh.  Is this conversation going to be a blob now?

Me: Well, it wasn’t until you called it a blob.

Throughout the whole movie my grandma keeps whispering to my aunt that she’s seen this movie before.  We all know this isn’t true.  For the sake of illustration, I’ve dubbed my grandma “frog pants.”  When the movie is over, everyone is teary eyed, yet a fight breaks loose:

Frog Pants:  Oh goodness, you guys are getting this sad? It’s just a dog for Pete’s sake. [as my aunt’s two boxers are staring up at her from the floor]

Aunt: Dogs are like part of the family, Ma.

Frog Pants:  Well, not ones that act like that thing.  I’ve seen this before, I could have told you every thing that was going to happen.

Me: No.  No you haven’t. I promise.  You don’t go to movies.  You don’t rent them.  And you live in an assisted living complex.  Where did you see it?

Frog Pants:  I don’t recall when I saw it, but I’m not gonna sit there while you guys make me out to be some kind of liar.  I remember that dog hanging out the window of the car.

Me & Aunt: [simultaneously]  That was a commercial!

Me:  When did you watch it then?  Because it just came out on DVD.

Aunt:  Ma, are you getting Alzheimers?

Frog Pants:  Goodness gracious. Just drop it.

   

Dear Rickety Old Lady,

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I think now would be a perfect time to discuss goals.  Making them, keeping them.  For example, one of my goals in the New Year was to stop procrastinating. Actually, you know what?  I don’t have time for this, let’s talk about it next week.  But what I DO think we should talk about today is the fact that any attempt I’ve made in the last week to “eat on the lighter side” has been shot to heck after polishing off that entire pepperoni pizza and order of bread sticks.  Pizza hut, no less, which means I might as well have just hooked up an IV of Country Crock to my veins.

But on a super serious note, I’d like to take this moment to formally apologize to someone near and dear to my heart.

Dear Rickety Old Lady From Whom I Bought My First Car,

You probably don’t remember me considering you were old as dirt at the time.  When I was a Sophomore, you had a 1964 Dodge for sale.  It was in perfect condition since it had been sitting in your garage for the better half of the 20th century.   For some ungodly reason, I wanted that car more than I wanted to see Titanic for the eleventh time.  I remember I came to you with a stack of cash and told you that was all I had to my name.  I might of teared up a bit.  And there’s also a good possibility that may have all been a lie. 

1964-dodge-440

But listen Irene, I want you to know that I had many fond memories in that car.  I could practically transport the entire school choir in my backseat.  Except, of course, for the time that it completely died on me in the middle of an intersection at the bottom of a hill and a car slammed right into me at 70 mph, nearly taking my life.  But thankfully, the car was so enormous that the accident left merely a scratch on my bumper – although the other person’s car was completely totaled.  Anyway, stop side-tracking me, Doris.  My point in writing to you is that I want you to know that I sold that car a month later and quadrupled my money.   I know it may seem like I took advantage of your oldness, but really, I think it shows my rather astounding eye for investment opportunities and savvy business sense at such a tender age.  Twas only a sign of what would follow.  And really, you have to admit that it was grossly under priced -anyone would have known that Margaret.

Ok.  Well, I guess that’s about it then.  Just wanted to clear the air, sorry for the harsh delivery.  We cool?
Stay young,

Blunt.

Kenny Chronicles: Technologically Challenged

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So Kenny, my metrosexual best friend and I are doing some errands around town, when my mom calls:

Mom:  I have a pretty serious problem.

Me: What’s wrong?!?

Mom:  I can’t watch any of my shows.   And Dancing With The Stars is premiering tonight and I can’t watch that either!

Me:  Why? Do you want me to tape it?

Mom:  Well your dad said we need some kind of box to watch local channels now.  They’re all fuzzy.  Except I remind him to get one everyday, but he forgets to get one everyday.

Me:  A digital converter box?

Mom:  Is that the thing that will make the channels clear?

Me:  Yes.  Well, I could pick one up for you – I’m just running some errands.

Mom:  Well can you get it tonight?  I’ve already missed two weeks.

So Kenny and I go to Best Buy. Normally, my independent side refuses to ask for any kind of help from an associate.  I don’t know why, but we certainly don’t have time to diagnose that tonight.  I was in a HUGE rush, so as soon as we enter the door, I cringe a little and ask the security guy where the digital converter boxes are.  He says, “See the Home Theater sign?  Right under that.”  Sweet.  That doesn’t sound complicated.

Kenny and I reach the Home Theater section and wander up and down a few aisles.  Neither of us see anything resembling what we’re looking for.  We loiter around for a bit and I make eye contact with two associates, but they were helping other people.

digital-converter-boxMe:  Well, they HAVE to be here!  Do you see anything?

Kenny:  Really?  Look who you’re talking to.  Just ask someone or we’ll be here all day.

So a guy walks by and says he’ll be with me in a minute, but the minute never came.  Eventually, I can’t wait any longer so I told Kenny to wait where he was and I’d get some help.

Me:  Sir, I’m sorry.  I’m in a huge rush.  I just really need to find the digital converter boxes. I was told they’re in this section but I can’t find anything.

Best Buy Guy:  Oh, sure.  [he comes over to me and points] See right where that guys is?

Me: Yea.

Best Buy Guy:  He’s leaning right on em.  There’s a stack about 8’x4′.

And there it was.  The most gigantic pile of digital converter boxes that there ever was. And there was Kenny, just leaning on them with a confused look on his face.  Obviously, I had to snap a picture so I could make a public mockery of the moment.

For more of the Kenny Chronicles:

How We Met

How to Talk Yourself Out of Dating Almost Anyone

A Conversation at Starbucks

A Metrosexual in a Yankees hat

A Bad Gordita and Some Classy Water

Black Friday, Depression, and a Salvation Army Chair

Look, Do You Want To Die?

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I’m sure you’d never guess it now, but I was a strange child. I grew up in the country so my days consisted of collecting caterpillars, creating my own farmer’s market,  and attempting to build tree forts that definitely endangered the safety of not only my life but also of my one neighbor friend that actually lived on my dead end street.  Of course, he was a boy so that didn’t help my quest for girlishness.  We were like Forrest and Jenny -except we never ended up dating.  Or having an illegitimate child.  Or getting AIDS.

My other neighbor, Bill, was a farmer so we’d play around on his tractors and then go back to his house where it always smelled like catfish and cigarettes. (they thought they still lived in Mississippi)  He and his wife were typical farmers,  missing a couple teeth and living on black coffee.  I don’t think I owned one single doll except for the cabbage patch my grandma bought me.  And I’m quite sure I threw up on that.

A nerd right from the get-go, I would gravitate to the office supplies aisle every time we stepped foot in a store.   In the picture you will see that I’m sitting in an actual school desk – one of the most amazing purchases my mom has ever made for me.  Still.   And as you’ll see from the picture, I’d sit and write in my closet for HOURS and HOURS.  Even from a young age, it was all I wanted to do.  I think if most people would think back on their childhood, they’d discover that their interests haven’t changed that much. Aside from picking their nose and stuff.

chris-brit

Speaking of my one childhood neighbor, do any of you remember a period of  about 1-2 years where you were TERRIFIED OF ALIENS???!? Cus, it’s very vivid in my mind. I don’t know what was up, but there was some kind of alien frenzy going on during my younger years.  It was all over the talk shows – people talking about being abducted and what not.  Anytime I was outside I’d keep a close watch on the sky and strange noises.  Of course, I was always protective of my friends even back then.  One time, I was playing softball with my neighbor and his brother.  There must have been a bunch of planes nearby, but as soon as I heard the noises, I immediately took action:

me:  STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING!!!

boys:  What? Why?

me:  GET IN THE GARAGE!!!!!

boys:  the garage?  but we’re in the middle of a ….

me: JUST DO IT!  DON’T ASK QUESTIONS!

boys:  but…. I …

me:  LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!

Like Black On A Chalkboard

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One of my goals for 2009 was to “stop fabricating the truth”  so that means that what you are about to witness is definitely legit.

My family is hilarious.  We’re like the token Italian family they always showcase in movies, who talk over eachother and have 8 different conversations happening at once.  Except, my mom isn’t even Italian.  And I don’t have 7 siblings named after famous Italian statues.

There’s a couple of things you must know about my parents to fully appreciate this story.  My dad is quite possibly the funniest person alive – to everyone except my mother, who never gets any of his jokes. Or maybe she does, but she thinks they are super lame.   On the other hand, no one on earth ever laughs at my mother’s jokes, except my mother, because they are just horrendous.   My dad and I often challenge each other to see who can ignore her jokes the best, because if we give her even the slightest bit of encouragement she will keep repeating them. over. and. over.   In a nutshell, they are on completely different wavelengths.  In fact, the only thing they might have in common is their confusion over anything related to pop culture.

We’re watching American Idol, some nerdy kid sings, and my mom loves it.

mom: you know who he reminds me of?  that kid on King of the Lords.

me:  what?

dad:  King of the Lords?!?  you mean, Ring of the Lords?

mom:  oh, IM SORRY.  that’s right, I meant Ring of the Lords.

me:  no. no.  it’s Lord of the Rings.

mom:  well, I like him.  he reminded me of Clay Aiken.

me:  I guess.  I like Clay Aiken.  Can’t believe he had a kid.

mom:  a kid????   he got married?

me: not exactly.  he artificially inseminated his 40 yr old roommate and then he came out of the closet.

mom:  WHAT?!?!  since when?

clay-aiken-people-coverme:  like, a year ago?

dad:  [randomly changing the subject]  you know, if you need get those pictures off my camera I’ve got a SUB cord and you can hook it up.

me:  SUB?  what?  It’s not a car we’re talking about here.  you mean a USB cord?

dad:  Oh gosh, I’m sorry.  I  don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.  Sometimes I transpose my numbers.

me: …… sigh… you mean letters?   [going to grab some paper so I can write all of this down]

[Nathaniel, the annoying emo kid sings…]

mom:  he looks like he has a booger in his nose.

me:  it’s a nose ring.

mom:  so tell me more about this Clay Atkins?

me:  it’s AIKEN.

mom:  so does he have a boyfriend then?

dad:  well that’s usually how it goes.

[then Jose, the Puerto Rican sings his song and gets emotional afterwards]

dad:  [all annoyed]  well you know he’ll make it now

me:  cus he cried?

American Idoldad:  of course.  but you know who I liked was that little brunette.  She was the best one with the best voice that messed up the worst.

[meanwhile, Lil Rounds sings her R&B song….]

mom:  well that was just terrible.  She’d of been better off singing Mary Had A Little Lamb than that crap.  it was like black on a chalkboard.

dad:  well that’s cus you just don’t get it.  That girl’s gotta lot of class.

me:  you said black on a chalkboard.