Monday, January 29, 2007

You won't stop making sense

Spent Sunday in South Jersey, so you know I have something funny to write.

By the time my mom and I got to her house (she'd picked me up in Marcus Hook and then we paid a visit to my grandmother in the hospital), she and I were both hungry. I rummaged for a GF cookie (SCORE, mom always has GF goodies for me) while baking a GF pizza (did I mention SCORE) and she heated up some soup/chili creation that was potentially not GF. She said that I had to try out her new bed--my parents recently bought one of those Sleep Number beds, so of course, they've spent the last few weeks playing with the settings. Not having much else to do but wait the 8 more minutes on the oven, I took my cookie and climbed into their bed. She laid on one side, I laid on the other, and we both deflated our respective sides before inflating them fully.

At some point (we were laughing, though that's not exactly a time-stamp), I looked at my chest and said, "Oh, I'm getting cookie crumbs all over your bed!"

My mother replied, "Don't worry... Your dad gets his nuts all over the bed..."

Uh. Thanks?

To be fair, though, I must explain. NO, REALLY, I MUST EXPLAIN! She wasn't talking about his man nuts (oh dear god, I hope she wasn't talking about that)--she was referring to my father's practice of bringing snacks to bed--his bedside table holds an alarm clock, a lamp, a package of cheese and peanut butter crackers, a wicker basket of fun-size candies, a half-eaten bag of Tostito's, and--usually--a big jar of mixed nuts. My dad is a right mess.

Once she realized what she'd said and what it could mean... well it was all she could do to not pee up her own bed.

Next time: socks socks and more socks: a picture post!

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