You are also aware I did not become a spaz over night.
I come from two outstanding parents who also survive each day despite being born without fully formed brain cells, for which I have no choice to blame for my own special mind.
BEHOLD... The Evidence:
Easter 2014. My mom gave my boyfriend and me the pleasure of her company at a late morning brunch. I and my boyfriend (whom I shall call Shmyler for anonymity purposes) watched in confusion as she ordered eggs benedict in piece meal. All the ingredients were there, just... separate. This would have been merely annoying had she intended to order each item in its own dish, but instead it was fascinating, because she didn't mean to do that at all. The confusion that coated her face when she received 7 different plates proved that this was not the meal she expected.
"What's this?" She asked. Shmyan, my cousin Jumbalya's boyfriend turned in the seat next to her and said, "That. Is the eggs benedict you 'ordered.'"
"Wha?" She asked, incredulous, her bright blue eyes searching our faces for the past five minutes, which she seemed to have apparently blacked out.
Jumbalaya told her to hold her hands up and stick out her tongue to make sure she wasn't having a stroke. She laughed and obliged. In a conscious act of solidarity, we all did the same and looked like a bunch of assholes. The waitress hovered patiently and waited for someone, anyone to let her get the rest of our food. Shmyler sensed her unease and said "We're fine." And she was off. Fortunately, Shmyler is a bona fide adult and takes very good care of me and every person I'm related to.
Christmas 2014. Mom granted me, my brother Shmilliam, and our grandmother the pleasure of dining with her at our favorite sushi restaurant. She ordered edamame immediately, as we were all starved from not having eaten in 5 hours. One full bowel* of un-peeled edamame pods were placed on the table next to a plate of nothing. Somehow, in the middle of de-shelling the edamame seeds from their leafy cases, my mom became confused and placed a full edamame pod into the plate reserved for the discards.
"Oh, someone keeps putting the empties into the bowl with all the un-empty ones!" She announced. Then she took the discarded pods and tossed them one-by-one into the bowel of the un-emptied ones. My body was too deprived of blood sugar to stop her, but Jesus took the wheel and she realized what she was doing and put everything back in order. Unfortunately I had already passed out from hunger and had to be force-fed shrimp to wake up. It worked.
DISCLAIMER: My mom is a derp, but also very successful. She has an innate sense of how things are processed and is therefore an excellent boss and a do-it-all mother. When people are in the hospital, she is listed as the emergency contact regardless of relationship because of her super-natural penchant for logistics. She is the person you want with you when buying a car, donating an organ, or doing anything that involves the DMV. She'll keep you laughing and be a living reminder that at the end of all dark tunnels, there is light. Her brain just needs a rest sometimes without her knowing it. This tends to happen during meals.
|Moms, ordering a margarita in 27 different glasses.|
Summer 199something. My Dad was kind enough to get lunch for the family when we all wanted pizza. My cousin, Jumbalaya, and I were about 4, and our moms informed Dad that he was to get us a large cheese and a large pepperoni pizza. He pointed his fingers like two pistols and said, "Okie doke."At some point on his trip to the restaurant, he decided that this was not amateur hour, and no one needs two whole pizzas. His method did not land well at home when he arrived back with a small pizza topped with sausage and jalepeño peppers.
In our youthful stupidity, Jumbalaya and I took two heaping bites and began wailing immediately. "HATE DIS PITHA!" We yelled while trying our hardest to rip our tongues out of our mouths. Despite the scornful gazes from his wife and sister, my dad laughed so hard the tears of joy came out faster than he could wipe them away. He has a penchant for torturing anyone (usually children), mostly on accident.
A Season, 198whatever. My eldest cousin, Shmimon, is born. His mother, Shmetty, mistakenly invites my Dad over to see him. Not thirty seconds pass before Dad holds Shmimon over his head like a football, running in slow motion down the hall while humming an ESPN theme song. Perhaps there was a point at which his only shred of maturity thought, "Hey, this kind of dangerous. Let's keep the infant at breast-level, huh?" but that was not the winning thought; the rest of his being, which is eternally trapped between the ages of 15 and 21, decided otherwise. "Fuck it!" His conscience said. "This kid's a football!" 24 hours later, Aunt Shmetty found her first gray hair.
DISCLAIMER: My dad is also a derp, but despite the overwhelming evidence, he is supremely compassionate and a very well-loved educator. He loves to help when he isn't fucking everything up. He is the person you want around when something breaks, or when you need advice on any artistic endeavor. He understands how things are built before they're built. He is my favorite creative genius. Famous teacher quotes include:
"Welcome to class. Please do not touch me."
"You all should be proud."
"Who are you people?"
|Moments later he threw me into the river and strapped the fish into a stranger's car seat.|
These are the trees I fall from, and let me tell you, I didn't roll far.
*CORRECTION: This word should be "bowl," not "bowel." We were not eating out of an anus.