So I had to get up mondo early this morning. I had to laundry (how I hate, hate, hate washing clothes) before work and see my parents as they stopped by on their way to the airport.
I saw the sun at 8 am.
I did not burst into flames.
Much to my surprise.
My parents rock. They brought me food. A lot. They think I'm starving myself, because of incidents in the dim past, and not out of poverty. Lots of it actually is stuff I won't eat: Teddy Grahams, apple sauce, hamburger casserole. But still, how cool was that.
There was of course a price. The Questions. To sum up:
Mater: What about that girl in South Carolina you went to see?
Me (thought): I told them about that?!
Me (actual): Laura?
Mater: You should see more of her. You're supposed to be married at your age. Or at least serious with
someone. Do you like her?
Me (thought): Yes, but...
Me (actual): Yes, but not...
Pater: Why is this Abercrombie and Fitch ad hanging on your icebox?
I'm not sure why, really. It's not like they didn't bring me Strawberry-Kiwi wine coolers.
They won't be drunk.
Not even I am that queer.