No one cares for you a smidge, when you’re in an orphanage

8 Nov


Mom and Dad: Last seen at Trump Tower on Nov. 1


These are my parents, who I’m pretty sure have indefinitely fled the country. I’m convinced that either my father is running from the mob or my mom told her book club that she hates Candace Bushnell and now the country club moms are out for blood.

Either way, I have not seen my parents in an eternity. Because I work about 15 minutes from their house, I have the opportunity to hang out with them pretty frequently – at least once a week. But lately, the house has been as dead as my soul when I’m forced to watch football.

We briefly had brunch at Trump Tower the day after Halloween but that was the only time I had seen them in weeks.  Granted, my dad travels frequently for work, but now he’s stealing my mom too. First it was Ireland a few weeks ago, then my mom went to Cleveland, now it’s Scotland for a wedding.

I had no idea they were leaving for Ireland until I tried to call the house several times, to no avail. When I complained to Pete, he said, “Oh yeah, they’re in Ireland this week with Caroline [my sister]. Your dad’s on business but he’ll be hanging out with them during the weekend. I believe they’re headed to… Galway? I thought it was somewhere in County Clare.”

WTF? Since when does my boyfriend lunch with my mom?

My mom doesn’t even call me anymore. She sends me and my sisters mass emails of her whereabouts. This was the most recent one: “I’m on my way to Scotland with Dad. We’ll be back on Sun. Call Dad on his cell if you need anything. Also, I’d love your Christmas lists ASAP. Love, Mom.”

TRANSLATION: I’m on the lam with your father. Don’t try to contact me, as “they” have bugged my phone. I’ll be home on Sunday, if I’m still alive. This message will self-destruct in 30 seconds. Love, Mom.

So now that I’m an orphan, I spent the day with Peter’s parents for his father’s birthday. They are great. Seriously kind, generous people who always greet me with a hug and a smile. But they bicker with each other. Not all the time, but over the most random stuff. Like this afternoon, Peter was going to order pizza for dinner from this place called Rosati’s. Peter couldn’t find their phone number online. This is the conversation that followed:

*Note: Peter’s father speaks with a strong Irish accent and his mother with a strong Peruvian accent. In addition, Peter’s father is also named Pete. So any references to “Petey” is my boyfriend. “Pete” is the father.

Petey: Did Rosati’s go out of business?

Mr. M: What are you talking about? I have their phone number in my cell phone!

Petey: But they’re not online. Did they close the Cary location?

Mr. M: No! I’ll call right now. [Dials cell phone.] It’s ringing!..  Hello?… Are you still open? Because my son says you’re closed. … I just want to know if you’re open or closed… OK. Great… No, we’re not ready to order… OK. I’ll call you back when the game is over. [Hangs up.] See, if we listened to Petey we wouldn’t have any pizza for my birthday!

Mrs. M.: Pete! Petey just asked if they were closed!

Pete: Yeah. Dad, I asked you if they were closed. I didn’t state that Rosati’s was closed.

Mr. M: But when you said they weren’t listed on the computer, you were INFERRING that they were closed.

Pete: Dad, you were deducing that from our conversation. I never actually said the words, “Rosati’s is closed.”

Mrs. M: Yes. Pete! You were DEDUCING!!!!

Mr. M: Eva, what do you think? What exactly did Petey say?

Eva: Ummm… I don’t really remember?

Mr. M: Hahahahahahahaha. Eva’s being very political over there. Playing the neutral party. Hahahahahahahaha.

And so on and so forth.

I guess I am adjusting well into my adoptive family because Petey and I bickered the whole way home about whether you run the risk of letting bed bugs into your home by purchasing furniture from Craig’s List.

Also, I’m pretty sure that Zumba is some crazy cult. And I’m drinking the Kool-Aid. I have been doing the dance below from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep:


2 Responses to “No one cares for you a smidge, when you’re in an orphanage”

  1. Mr. P November 8, 2010 at 3:13 am #

    I stand by my claim that it’s ok to purchase a couch on CL, since Bed Bugs are a myth that were invented by the PMP industry. For the unaware, that’s the Pest Management Professional industry, aka bug/critter exterminators.

  2. Anna November 8, 2010 at 4:02 am #

    that is the nerdiest picture any mother and father in history. and i’m assuming you’re doing the dance of the girl sitting in the director’s chair. this message will destruct in 30 seconds.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: