I deliberately selected the cheesiest song ever recorded on all of music history because I wanted to make a faux-romativc gag video of my parents. But the damn this actually turn out kind of sweet. But, if you don’t have the, “Awwwwwww….” reaction, you many be among the surprising number of people who at the conclusion of the video turn to me a little uncomfortably and say something along the lines of, “It’s really good, but I kinda feel like I’ll be watching it again one day at their memorial service ….”
Essentially what I think they trying to say is, “You’re parents look great! Don’t forget that they’re getting older and will probably both be dead before long. Have a nice day!” Since I inadvertently created a video with the power to bring out the unleash the Debbie Downer in just about anyone, this time I’m trying to counter-act the effect by teaming the the video with some of my parent’s more memorable utterances and exchanges from the past few months.
Watching a video of Prince performing Purple Rain
Mom: He’s scary sexy…
Mom’s Friend: I like your new hair. Are you happy with it?
Me: OMG … I love it! In fact, right after I had it done I posted on Facebook ‘Is it hot in here or is it just me?’ Hahahaha!
Mom’s Friend: *hands me a bottle of water* Want a drink?
Mom: *fiddles with the a/c controls* Is that better?
Me: *face palm*
Mom: I’m not homophobic. I’m not scared to leave the house. It just hurts when I try to walk too far.
Me: Ma … agoraphobia.
Mom: Oh. What did I say?
Mom: (leaving a voice mail for my brother) … anyway, I told them I’d give you their number and I did. I’ve done my duty.
Me: hehehehehe . . . “doody”
Mom: Oh you! Job? Task?
Me: Doody’s funnier.
Mom: Doody fucker?
Me: BWAHahahahahahaha! Posting!
Mom: I really like that black shirt you have.
Me: The Liz Claiborne?
Mom: No . . .
Me: The one that buttons up the front?
Mom: No . . .
Me: Those are the only black shirts I own.
Mom: The one you wore to work yesterday.
Me: The green one?
Mom: Yes, that looks so nice on you.
Driving on the freeway.
Mom: Brake Glenn, brake!
Dad: Nita, I see it!
Mom: Well I didn’t know you saw it.
Dad: Do I have to tell you everything I see so you’ll know I’m not going to hit it?
Mom: No, I just want to know what you don’t see.
Me: *genuflects and closes eyes*
Dad (to me): Are you watching this show?
Mom (from the kitchen): What?
Dad: I wasn’t talking to you, Anita.
Dad: I was talking to Urethra.
Mom: What does she need?
Mom: Iced Tea?
Me: No, nothing.
Mom (coming out of the kitchen and handing me a bottle of iced tea): Here you go.
Me: Thanks mom…
Showing my mom a picture of an old friend I ran into at a party.
Me: Come here, mom. I’ll show you a picture of Steven (opens photo album on Facebook and points out friend). There he is.
Mom: Oh! The Lauffer boy! He grew up (points to a picture right-side of the screen). He looks different here.
Me: Probably because that’s Donald Trump.
Mom: Oh, well no wonder.
Dad: I’m going to the store. Do you have the keys to the Honda?
Mom: Oh, be careful Glenn, that car doesn’t have any . . . poof! . . . What’s the word? Safety pillows . . . ?
Dad: Air bags?
Mom: That’s it!
Shhhh! No one tell my mom this is posted out here, okay? Thanks!
Big thanks to H.E. Ellis for the hilarious post that inspired this one (Conversations With My Mother) and for allowing me to hijack her idea. If you haven’t read her blog yet, please do so soon. You’ll be glad you did.