Monday, February 13, 2012

But Other People Have Needs Too

I just got off the phone with my parents, who never call me lately because they are busy with their own affairs, and it's like, my sister has cancer now so suddenly she's all anyone can talk about. If you don't have cancer? Back of the line.

I was calling to say that we four are going up to their mountain house for the long weekend, and might we see them sometime? And they were all, no, we're meeting your brother in Huntsville for this and that, blah blah, and no, you are not on our itinerary.

And I was like, "It's not as good being at the mountain house when there are no grandparents to get up with the kids." And they were like, "Uh huh, oh, and also the hot tub needs cleaning so you might want to take care of that."

Then I asked if they had figured out their plans for when to go to Australia to be with Amy and help out with her family now that her surgery is scheduled for this week. Oh, well, yes, they had gotten tickets last Thursday, hadn't I heard? They're leaving at the end of this month and staying seven weeks.

Seven! Weeks! Spanning a period when I thought that yours truly might have need of their domestic services for times when Matt or I are traveling. One weekend in particular, they will be gone and Matt's mother is busy and I'm going to a conference for four days. I guess the children will have to be cared for by their father? These retired "active adults" kill me. Get a job!

I sputtered. "Well, I'm glad that you guys are going to be able to go and stay so long. Of course I'm glad. It's just that I'm going to miss you."

Dad said, "Well, think of these seven weeks as a preview of our deaths."

Got it.

So you can see why he is so in demand at sick beds and in the homes of the ailing all over the globe. Sunshine, just constant sunshine. Coming at you, Amy.

16 comments:

Keely said...

That...sounds like something my own dad would say. Seriously, who wants a preview?

Tell them to take my shiny happy thoughts to your sister, though.

gretchen said...

If I was their adopted daughter, I would clean the hot tub. Just saying.

Camp Papa said...

I'm not sure that the full measure of my warm nurturing nature is presented in this post.

Becky said...

Dad, give my readers more credit! If read in context, it gives a full and fair portrait of your character! I personally think it is a companion piece to Cricket Finger.

Barb said...

good read! I probably wouldn't clean the hot tub...

Elizabeth said...

OMG. Your family makes me laugh so hard. I adore your sense -- or senses -- of humor.

Maybe you can come down with a tennis injury and garner a little sympathy?

Josephine said...

Your story-telling skillz are gold.
Best wishes to the fam during this unfortunate hiccup in proceedings.

Lisa Lilienthal said...

As an oldest child myself, I agree that we shouldn't have to pull rank -- they should just know that we come first, right?

Becky said...

Right! Nobody wants to have to pull rank. It is unbecoming!

Jenni said...

Hahahaha, your dad is so funny!

Amy said...

I'm sorry that my cancer diagnosis has interfered with your childcare arrangements. I do tend to make it all about me, don't I? I'll have to work on that...

"A preview of our deaths"??? That is such a dad thing to say!

Suburban Correspondent said...

Sheesh - parents can be so SELFISH. And your dad cracked me up.

jo said...

er, um, you are sounding a little needy

Suburban Princess said...

Oh my. Would a paper cut help get some attention?

I never mind when my parents go travelling...keeps them out of my hair for a few weeks at a time!

Beth said...

I can't wait to read the blog post about how the preview goes.

Star said...

Now that was funny. Made me snicker. Thanks!