Tis' the Season

Every year my mom, who is also a writer, takes a little bit out of each of our lives and shares it with friends and family. This year I was a little offended reading the holiday letter, because my mom wrote that I have a bizarre sense of humor. My sense of humor might be a little different, but no one in my family has any room to talk when it comes to how talented and disturbingly entertaining we are.

Just last week my dad called to tell me that my mom had got her foot caught in the strap of her purse while trying to get out of her car. She fell onto the sidewalk and clocked her face on the driver’s door trying to get back up, giving herself a black eye. My dad is already on crutches, because he recently fractured his ankle. So he was sitting on the passenger's side looking over at her like, “what is going on?”

Mom, my sense of humor might be strange, but you sure are talented.

In the holiday letter she also wrote about my baby brother. The poor kid is the last of the siblings, stuck at home with good old mom and dad. At sixteen the kid just got his drivers license and an iphone. (I guess my mom really wants grandchildren)...

Anyway, at my parent’s house, in the kitchen, there is a walk in pantry. My mom wrote about how my brother managed to lock himself into the pantry just before dinner. (The doorknob is broken and he knows it. He was messin' around and got stuck in there). While my dad went to find a screwdriver to take the door off and get my brother out, my mom heard a muffled voice from inside, “Mom, I’m going to have a cookie, OK?” He actually managed to jiggle the doorknob and get the door open shortly thereafter. (“Was it all just a ruse to get a cookie before dinner,” my mom thought to herself).

My mom also wrote in the holiday letter that she went on a rant about how bad soda is. “Soda is not food, it’s one of the worst things you can put in your body,” my mom said. My brother replied, “No Mom, crack is one of the worst things you can put in your body.”

Touché.

My other brother goes to school in southern California. In May my mom received an email from the school, warning parents that there was an outbreak of syphilis on campus. Parents were encouraged to remind their son or daughter not to have unprotected sex. My mom forwarded the email to my other brother. He called her and said, “Mom, everyone’s parents are calling them about that email.” So she said, “Well just promise me that you will have protected sex.”

He replied, “Mom, I promise I’ll have as much protected sex as possible!”

My family, gotta love them…