by Stacy Riedel
So my parents arrive tomorrow. That's right. Mr. and Mrs. Wonderful, those who spawned this specimen before you, the proud-ish individuals who still have their fingers crossed for me. I think their visits are 50% legitimate vacation, 50% verification I am alive, employed, and not in the county jail.
Good news, as of this posting, I am not in the county jail, so I will be able to get some Q-T in with my folks. It's not like we're talking about a minute window of opportunity here. They're going to be here for a full month, in Wisconsin, and for some reason that sounds really fun to them. To be fair, I'm a really great host and I am careful to provide an itinerized visitor's package for them, to ease any fears that this might actually be the armpit of a town outsiders think of it. Perhaps this is what keeps them coming back. It's more likely the fried food, but I like to think I'm sort of the gravy on the mashed potatoes.
They deserve this time away. Mom teaches third grade to a classroom full of third grade-aged kids. So you know that's stressful. Sure she loves her job and has a great story about every one of her students, but it isn't uncommon for her to report to me after her first week with her new kids every year that they're less than desirable. One year she called them "a big box of assholes."
If you think that's impressive, get a load of my dad. He teaches second grade. Compared to Dad's class, Mom's kids are basically adults. They teach at the same school, so when I visit I get a chance to stop in and see their respective classrooms and help out where I can. Mom's kids all seem loud and manic at first, but once I visit Dad's class, it's kind of like witnessing the Evolutionary Chart in reverse. Second graders are right at that age where they are still curious enough about new things that they want to destroy it. For instance overhead fluorescent lights, their classmates' hair, or my dad's soul.
Despite these little bastards my parents really are living their dream life. They work less than nine months a year and have a huge extended vacation as a reward, trekking the country in their RV they've lovingly nicknamed "The Global Warmer." They left Vegas, where the live, about a week ago and along the way my mom sends me random cryptic text messages, as though I'm supposed to understand at all what they mean or where they are. Here, a few choice gems:
"Made by Indians."
"How much is gas there?"
"Do you still eat poultry n fish?"
"Pretty flat."
"Thems fighten words."
"Lot of cows."
"Really hot here."
"We passed someone...an old man on a scooter."
"How would you like to live in Athol, Kansas?"
"I need a manicure."
"Cute."
None of these texts were prompted in any way. They just sort of existed in my mom's mind and for whatever reason, she beamed them to me. I can't believe she still thinks after all these years I get my weird gene from my dad. I love these though. It's like being tapped into my mom's REM state and watching her synapses shoot off whatever her subconscious is currently fixated on..."Made by Indians-PEW! Old man on a scooter-ZEERM!" She shapes young minds.
Dad ain't exactly normal either. For his birthday I got him a CB radio, per his request. He wanted to be able to shoot the breeze with other truckers while on the road. I advised him to get a call sign before getting out there, lest he look like an amateur. I'm looking forward to hearing what he settled on. He watches lots of Fox News and wants to punch Hillary Clinton in the face, and this will surely come up in the month to come, and in a family full of female Democrats, you have to admire his cojones.
My apologies in advance for what I'm sure will be yet another mini-hiatus. I'll certainly do my best to report the goings-on, as well as the weight gain. It has been too long, Boners, and I know we already have a lot to catch up on. Michael Jackson, my recent all-day dental appointment, and the run I finished five positions from last. I'm working on it, and all of your BW writers appreciate to no end your persistent visits to our site, hoping for an update. Thanks as always for all the support, we hope to bring you some ridiculous stuff to read in the coming weeks.
Oh my gosh! It is about time Mz Riede1! How I have missed your blogging! Keep it up since I will not be seeing you for a month, I need my Stacy time some other way!!
Posted by: Sarah P | June 29, 2009 at 12:10 PM