Mum and Dad. Please Go Home...
Feb 1, 2011, 6:09 am
#1
Moderator, Trip Reports
Original Poster
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Denver, CO
Programs: UA GS-2MM, Marriott Ambassador
Posts: 3,715
Mum and Dad. Please Go Home...
The phone rang...
There was no hello. There never is. Just a deep breath, then a launch into a verbal tirade of abuse. About nothing.
It was my mother.
Now, I will admit, even though I am 44 and have children of my own, this woman still scares me.
My mother proceeded to tell me that they were moving house and much to her disgust, their new place wasn't going to be ready for a little while.
Then she said it. That very thing that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. The thing that strikes fear into every son or daughter-in-law.
"We're coming to visit. We want to see our grand children"
"No you don't. You just want to come and annoy me" I said to myself.
At this point, I was reaching for my cellphone trying to call my sister. To wish a communicable disease upon her. One that would guarantee body parts would fall off as she did the grocery shopping.
I could hear my old man laughing in the background.
Then the matriarch said "we'll be there next week". And promptly hung up.
Now, dear and gentle reader of all things FT. That innocent little phone call happened way back at the beginning of November. That's November 2010.
And.
And prey tell, would someone care to tell me what the date is today????
Exactly. See. Now you understand.
My parents have been living under my roof for the past 90-days. Or close enough to. Even the cat has started sending me emails asking when the hell are they leaving.
Or something like that.
Think back to the time when you actually did live at home. With your own parents.
For one, everyone was much younger.
I certainly don't remember all the coughing, the breaking of wind, the hacking, the false teeth on the kitchen counter and everything else that goes with turning 70. Or older.
One night, my wife and I were lying in the bed, looking at the ceiling. I was wondering when I might ever see her naked again. My wife that is. She was sleeping in a kaftan. Again.
There was a chair and a dresser up against the bedroom door.
Then there was a scream. It eminated from a small child. Sadly, it came from one of ours.
Our daughter came bursting into the room. Even through all the obstacles.
There was a lot of sobbing. And uncontrollable shaking.
"What's wrong?", we asked, in the most caring of tones.
There was that staccato speech pattern, that only a child can perfect.
I juuust saaaw Grannnnddddppppaaaa naaaaaakkkkkkeeedd!!!!!
"Well, that will do it", I said to my wife.
Now, let me explain.
My father is Asian. He's 75. He would be all of 4 feet, 9 inches. And even if he was dripping wet, he wouldn't weigh more than a buck twenty. 52 kilos to be precise.
At night, he sleeps naked. I have no idea why. And he takes his teeth out, his glasses off. And removes his hearing aids.
He's basically an organ donor at this point.
Because his bladder is the size of a walnut, he needs to go pee 22 times a night. And this particular night, he walked down the hallway, bumping into things, burping, breaking wind, hacking up a lung and grunting.
My daughter had awoken due to a nightmare. But then a real one confronted her. It was her Grandfather. Coming in the opposite direction, down the hallway. In his birthday suit.
I think he thought his grand daughter was the cat. At which point, he tried to kick wildly in our daughters direction.
Because Stevie Wonder has better vision, his erratic gesture with his right foot missed our offspring.
My wife told me to go and investigate.
I told her that I would rather wrestle crocodiles with a pair of chopsticks. Or something like that.
So, let me fast forward.
We're sitting here in the Emirates lounge in Singapore. I'm heading back to MEL tomorrow for work.
However, Mr. and Mrs Eightblack Senior are with me. Right beside me.
I'm writing this in the business centre of the lounge. One, because my Mac decided to have a heart attack at 2pm this afternoon. And two, because I'm a middle aged man and don't want to be seen in the same lounge as my folks.
You understand, don't you?
I intend to drink heavily on this flight. Much could happen in the next 7-hours. Because in fact, a lot already has. And besides, why should your lives be any different to mine. You need to hear this.
Someone needs to hear this. Lord help me...
Stay tuned...
There was no hello. There never is. Just a deep breath, then a launch into a verbal tirade of abuse. About nothing.
It was my mother.
Now, I will admit, even though I am 44 and have children of my own, this woman still scares me.
My mother proceeded to tell me that they were moving house and much to her disgust, their new place wasn't going to be ready for a little while.
Then she said it. That very thing that causes the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. The thing that strikes fear into every son or daughter-in-law.
"We're coming to visit. We want to see our grand children"
"No you don't. You just want to come and annoy me" I said to myself.
At this point, I was reaching for my cellphone trying to call my sister. To wish a communicable disease upon her. One that would guarantee body parts would fall off as she did the grocery shopping.
I could hear my old man laughing in the background.
Then the matriarch said "we'll be there next week". And promptly hung up.
Now, dear and gentle reader of all things FT. That innocent little phone call happened way back at the beginning of November. That's November 2010.
And.
And prey tell, would someone care to tell me what the date is today????
Exactly. See. Now you understand.
My parents have been living under my roof for the past 90-days. Or close enough to. Even the cat has started sending me emails asking when the hell are they leaving.
Or something like that.
Think back to the time when you actually did live at home. With your own parents.
For one, everyone was much younger.
I certainly don't remember all the coughing, the breaking of wind, the hacking, the false teeth on the kitchen counter and everything else that goes with turning 70. Or older.
One night, my wife and I were lying in the bed, looking at the ceiling. I was wondering when I might ever see her naked again. My wife that is. She was sleeping in a kaftan. Again.
There was a chair and a dresser up against the bedroom door.
Then there was a scream. It eminated from a small child. Sadly, it came from one of ours.
Our daughter came bursting into the room. Even through all the obstacles.
There was a lot of sobbing. And uncontrollable shaking.
"What's wrong?", we asked, in the most caring of tones.
There was that staccato speech pattern, that only a child can perfect.
I juuust saaaw Grannnnddddppppaaaa naaaaaakkkkkkeeedd!!!!!
"Well, that will do it", I said to my wife.
Now, let me explain.
My father is Asian. He's 75. He would be all of 4 feet, 9 inches. And even if he was dripping wet, he wouldn't weigh more than a buck twenty. 52 kilos to be precise.
At night, he sleeps naked. I have no idea why. And he takes his teeth out, his glasses off. And removes his hearing aids.
He's basically an organ donor at this point.
Because his bladder is the size of a walnut, he needs to go pee 22 times a night. And this particular night, he walked down the hallway, bumping into things, burping, breaking wind, hacking up a lung and grunting.
My daughter had awoken due to a nightmare. But then a real one confronted her. It was her Grandfather. Coming in the opposite direction, down the hallway. In his birthday suit.
I think he thought his grand daughter was the cat. At which point, he tried to kick wildly in our daughters direction.
Because Stevie Wonder has better vision, his erratic gesture with his right foot missed our offspring.
My wife told me to go and investigate.
I told her that I would rather wrestle crocodiles with a pair of chopsticks. Or something like that.
So, let me fast forward.
We're sitting here in the Emirates lounge in Singapore. I'm heading back to MEL tomorrow for work.
However, Mr. and Mrs Eightblack Senior are with me. Right beside me.
I'm writing this in the business centre of the lounge. One, because my Mac decided to have a heart attack at 2pm this afternoon. And two, because I'm a middle aged man and don't want to be seen in the same lounge as my folks.
You understand, don't you?
I intend to drink heavily on this flight. Much could happen in the next 7-hours. Because in fact, a lot already has. And besides, why should your lives be any different to mine. You need to hear this.
Someone needs to hear this. Lord help me...
Stay tuned...
Feb 1, 2011, 8:16 am
#4
Join Date: Jul 2003
Location: Orlando
Programs: Delta-Million miler
Posts: 1,312
I wish I could see my grandchildren! My son and daughter-in-law have been asking us to come to visit them in Eugene, Oregon and we have been declining as it takes two stops to reach them. They don't want to travel with 2 kids, 2000 plus miles, and 2 stops. It takes a whole day.
They have been living with you for 3 months and yet your child didn't recognize your father without eyeglasses, hearing aid, and teeth? Something wrong. It is time your parents dis-own you.
They have been living with you for 3 months and yet your child didn't recognize your father without eyeglasses, hearing aid, and teeth? Something wrong. It is time your parents dis-own you.
Feb 1, 2011, 11:59 am
#8
Join Date: Jan 2011
Programs: UA 1P, Marriott Gold, F9, Hertz Five *
Posts: 4
parents
Isn't it amazing how fast our parents can make us feel 12 again? I am however not sure if I should mention that you will do this to your children...
Anyway, good luck with the heavy drinking. I will look forward to hearing the next installment.
Anyway, good luck with the heavy drinking. I will look forward to hearing the next installment.
Feb 1, 2011, 12:23 pm
#11
Join Date: Sep 2009
Location: Canterbury, England & Burgundy, France
Posts: 42
Looking forward to this.
Some parents (mine included) seam to have difficulty in coming to terms with their kids ages. And that they are no longer in charge.
My mother thinks my sister is a young girl and way to young to have a job with any stress. That she should not drive long distances or that she should be living in her own place. (I need to point out my sister is 32 and a doctor)
My mother also thinks that I am the same age as my dad. For Christmas and birthdays she will send me the same style of shirt, jumper etc that she has bought my dad. She will also say things like "are you not a bit too old to be traveling in Africa?" Or "Your far to old to be thinking about moving full time to France!" (I'm 37)
Alex
Some parents (mine included) seam to have difficulty in coming to terms with their kids ages. And that they are no longer in charge.
My mother thinks my sister is a young girl and way to young to have a job with any stress. That she should not drive long distances or that she should be living in her own place. (I need to point out my sister is 32 and a doctor)
My mother also thinks that I am the same age as my dad. For Christmas and birthdays she will send me the same style of shirt, jumper etc that she has bought my dad. She will also say things like "are you not a bit too old to be traveling in Africa?" Or "Your far to old to be thinking about moving full time to France!" (I'm 37)
Alex
