So let's talk about my folks, Bruce and Pam-the greatest parents ever known to parentdom. If there were an award ceremony for parenting like the Oscars, my parents would be the ones on stage giving an acceptance speech and your parents would be doing the fake clap/fake smile thing for the cameras back at the table. Unless you are Diane, in which case we have the same parents. Don't feel bad, you guys, at least your parents got nominated, and it's an honor just to be nominated (losers).
My parents are the most loving and generous people on Earth. D and I are spoiled rotten-not to the point of being ridiculous like the Hilton sisters, but you know what, if my parents had as much money as the Hiltons, I would be Paris only with more sex tapes, and Diane would be Nicky-the one no one really cares about.
I would say at least half of my meals are still provided by them, and it's embarassing how much money they still give to us. Even when we try to refuse (I try to-Diane's like,"'give me this right now"), they just won't take no for an answer. They care about our friends as much as we do and go out of their way to make new boyfriends feel comfortable. They are responsible for D, me and our friends not starving during college. Well, them and Papa John's. They sent us food, sent us food money, cooked for us (this applies to mom only), took us out to dinner when they came to visit (all of us-I'm talking upwards of 12 people usually), etc. They took us to nice places and all-you-can-eat-buffets . Do you know what an all-you-can-eat-buffet means to a college student? It is paradise. It's our Mecca. And even now if you ever want a free meal just be with me or D when they are around. They will immediately suggest we go out to eat somewhere and will not accept any money for it. Actually you don't even have to be with us. You just have to be nearby. They kind of just grab everyone within 20 feet and throw them into the car and take them to eat.
Quick facts:
Age: Both 55
Height:
Mom = 5'5"
Dad = 6'4"
Voice:
Mom = epitomizes the Cleveland nasal accent
Dad = a voice so low he scares little kids and sometimes can't be heard without the aid of special hi-tech sound equipment
Occupations:
Mom = Dietitian
Dad = works at the same company I do
Hometowns:
Mom = a nice suburb of Columbus, Ohio
Dad = the smallest town ever in southern central Ohio
How long they've been married: 34 years
How they met: At college. Dad's fraternity was hosting a spaghetti dinner for Mom's sorority (this is back when fraternities and sororities were fun). They saw each other across the room, knew instantly, blah blah blah, married like 9 nanoseconds later.
Dad's nickname for Mom: Pammy Jean
Mom's nickname for Dad: our last name (which I am not writing here. nice try, stalkers). My mom is really creative in her nicknames.
Mom's sayings:
- "So...whatcha know?" Spoken at least once every phone call, usually more like 27 times no matter how many times you answer "nothing".
- "Get a grip, Bruce." Directed at my Dad.
Dad's sayings:
Way too many to count. He is a saying machine, but here are a few of his favorites. All result in eye-rolls from the party on the receiving end.
- "Dammit Pam." Directed at my Mom.
- "Workin' hard or hardly workin'?" One of his favorites. Almost all of my friends have fallen victim to this one as well.
- "You're cruisin' for a bruisin'" Directed at me and/or Diane when in trouble or after making fun of him. Same with...
- "We're gonna miss you around here."
- "Unhitch the plow!" Directed at me or Diane while we are running. Eff you, Dad!
- "You can't hunt with the eagles if you hoot with the owls." Directed at me and/or Diane while addressing our drinking habits.
And my personal fave...
Can't cut the cord habits: calling D and me 3-4 times a week minimum to warn us of any weather changes, to make sure we are taking a jacket wherever we are going, to urge us to wear snowboots (winter only) and to tell us to watch out for cops because "they're really out today".
My can't cut the cord habits: can't really make any important decisions without them, if something goes wrong in my apartment or car I immediately call my dad, when I am sad I want my mommy
In short, Pam and Bruce rule. You guys will find out eventually when we all go to dinner.
5 comments:
This is all true. One time I just heard a low rumble and realized Bru-dog had been talking to me for like 5 minutes. But it was all good because Pam came over and made me eat like 40 slices of pizza - which was totally fine with me. They have raised two wonderful (hot) daughters.
That's awesome - I love my folks a lot, they were hardasses when i was growing up, but now they're big softies. We talk twice a week and it mostly revolves around the weather.
Also, I think they like my new wife more than me, which is discouraging (for me).
And they are the best party hosts you will ever meet - I can only aspire to kick as much ass as they do when hosting an event. I'm not talking about doilies and Martha Stewart crap, I"m talking about buckets of booze and great food, served as if it just magically appears (although there's a lot of work up front). I admire that they always have the best time of anybody at their own parties.
This toast is for you, mom and dad! And a toast to Bruce and Pam as well!
That made me all warm and fuzzy to read. You rock!
your mom WAS the best mom until I stepped on her doing the electric slide. let's be clear, I was doing the electric slide and she was trying to get her foot under mine the entire time. now she's defective with her old broken foot.
I'm just kidding, Diane.
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