Somehow I managed to forget to tell my parents that Tubbs and I were going to Coachella. Actually, I didn’t forget, I just avoided because I knew somehow it would get all mangled. But it happened to come up the other day while we were at my son’s baseball game.
There’s a lot of chatting at baseball games, mostly because they take hours to complete and my mom, who was a teacher for years, enjoys critiquing the players who stink (i.e. ‘Does that boy have a learning disability? or ‘The boy with the hat seems to lose focus, has he been tested?’). Behind closed doors this doesn’t bother me, since I talk shit about everyone, but when sitting amongst their parents it can make for tension, so I try to engage both my parents in conversation to keep them from veering off-track. ‘Off-track’ can also include public neck rubbing (my mom will ask my stepdad to rub her neck) and/or ear cleaning (my mom will jam her finger in my stepdad’s ears in a chimp like fashion) , so it’s important that I sit between them.
I should probably give you a quick visual as well. A typical ensemble for my mom involves some sort of oversized billowy Eileen Fisher type top with waterproof sweatpants (the type with zippers on the bottom) from Marshall’s. In addition, she enjoys wearing Jesus sandals (as my sister likes to call them) with dark socks. To top it all off, she wears cataract sun-glasses over her regular glasses. Continue reading