I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I kept telling myself to get up and go to the gym, but then I would argue with myself, insisting I should get up, call the sick line at work and go back to bed for the day. In the end, I decided I wasn’t going to let Brenda get to me so badly that I’d waste a PTO day for her, so I did go to work, just not to the gym. And it was a better day. I tried my best not to deal with Brenda at all, but it soon became clear she had absolutely no idea she’d done something to offend me. It’s really hard to hang onto your hatred for a person when they truly don’t grasp the fact that they are insane. Now I just feel sorry for her and her extra-large butt.
On a happier note, my parents came back home today. After dinner, Kacey and I walked over to their house to welcome them home. One of my brothers, my sister and most of their kids were already there, so we had ourselves a miniature family reunion. We adults all sat around the table while multiple conversations filled the room and the kids ran up and down the stairs and around the house. The best story was the one my parents told about my 80-year-old Aunt Arlys, who also spends her winters in Arizona.
“Arlys has a boyfriend,” my mom announced.
(Arlys has been married twice and has buried two husbands, so this was some interesting news.)
“Is it the guy she went to dinner with,” Cori asked?
“Is it the one she went with to the concert in the park but they didn’t dance because they don’t like rock music,” I asked? (See? I listen when my mom talks.)
“Yes,” my mom said.
“So he’s her boyfriend now? I thought she told you she wasn’t going to get serious with him,” I said.
“Well, they’re serious now,” my mom said.
“They held hands during the entire drive to the airport,” my dad informed us, as if this were a scandalous notion. (Gasp!)
There were too many people talking at once, so I missed some of what was being said about Arlys and her “boy” friend, but next thing I knew, my dad was adding his very opinionated opinion.
“I don’t think anyone is saying no in that affair,” he said!
I nearly spit my beer out as my sister and I doubled over in laughter at the image that statement created in our minds. My dad, suddenly realizing what we were thinking, tried desperately to explain:
“No… I didn’t mean… I wasn’t talking about… sex…,” he trailed off.
“She said they didn’t do that,” my mom added.
My sister and I were out of control with laughter and my mom knows there’s no turning back once we’ve gone down this road. I’m pretty sure she was rolling her eyes at us by then. Eventually, we did regain some semblance of composure.
There are just some things you don’t want to hear your parents talk about, no matter how old you are. The sex life (or lack thereof) of a couple of 80-year-olds is one of them!
It’ good to have Mom and Dad home again, and I’m looking forward to more family gatherings because, clearly, the conversations are never dull.