Repetition

Perhaps my mom's relies on repetition because she overestimates its effectiveness. For some reason. I certainly don't encourage it-- hearing something more than once doesn't inspire better results from me-- and I certainly don't like to repeat myself.

So, if I'm in the middle of something in another part of the house when it occurs to my mother to call for me, it's really not necessary to keep calling for me as I'm finishing what I'm doing (Lesson I of calling me from another part of the house). My mother has never actually understood that unless something is urgent-- i.e. something's on fire, etc. (I've discussed in the past her and my differing understandings of the concept of urgency)-- I'm going to finish what I'm doing first. Seeing something on TV that she wants to tell me about is not urgent, so I'd finish, say, typing a sentence, etc. Continuing to say or scream "A....!" while I finish typing my sentence is not going to make the sentence go any faster. And, actually, screaming for me to drop what I'm doing because she has a thought she wants to share, leads me to take her less seriously whenever she screams for me for whatever reason (Lesson II). There's no way to differentiate an "A....!" inspired by, "I've been meaning to ask you, did you ever apply to Google?" from one inspired by, "that pot is going to boil over and I'm in the middle of something, could you remove it please," etc. There's a Lesson II: It takes a few seconds to get from one part of the house to another (the house is not very big but still), so, in a variation on Lesson I, once you hear me say, "I'm coming," you can stop with the "A....!"s.

Nonetheless, this morning, when my father started doing laundry around the same time my mother started taking a shower, and I started reading the paper, the following scene ensued:

Mom: A....!!!
A.: I'm coming!
Mom: A....!!!
A.: I said I'm coming
Mom: A....!!!
Mom: A....!!!
Mom: A....!!!
Mom: A....!!!

Or however many she managed to get in there in the ten seconds after "I said I'm coming" but before I actually reached her.

Now, as for my not liking to repeat myself-- don't get me wrong, it's not like I can't be bothered to repeat what I've said if someone didn't hear it. It's more like, upon having established something (for example, "no I have not applied to Google and no I do not plan on applying to Google," or "I have no political rationale for not drinking coffee. I don't like coffee;"), I do not care to revisit that discussion. And I'd established that in my opinion, there is much too much food on the table at every meal and it's unnecessary, and if it's food that can't really be tupperwared, i.e. that should be eaten, I always feel like crap at the end of the meal. It's very Russian to have a lot of appetizers or side dishes around-- fair enough. That's still no excuse for the following conversation:

Mom: Should I also cook the green beans?
A.: Absolutely not, I think there's already a ton of food.
[A few minutes elapse.]
Mom: Oh, I'll put out the eggplant...
A.: There is an insane amount of food on the table.
[A few minutes elapse.]
Mom: Do you think I should put out the seaweed salad?
A.: No! No! I've already told you I don't think you should put anything else out!

I mean, WHY does she keep asking me? Had I not made clear my feelings on the matter of putting out more food? If she wants to set out more food, fine, but please stop asking me. Although I'd really rather she didn't set out more food, because the more food on the table, the more items about which she'll ask why I'm not eating them, and then lecture me on their nutritional value.

I'm actually not very picky about food-- if it's vegetarian/pescatarian, I'll eat it. I can't eat everything at once, though, and there are some things I am quite picky about, like eggs. I take eggs very seriously (fried ones, anyway). I like them over-easy, on toast, and served hot. Over-easy because I prefer very firm whites and completely liquid yolks; on toast or even just bread because something has to catch the yolk when you break it-- otherwise there's egg yolk on your plate and who needs that? My father has different fried egg preferences, has more tolerance for runny egg whites. This is why when we have fried eggs for breakfast, I tend to make my own, he tends to make his own, and whoever has the bigger skillet also makes my mom's, because she's not as particular about her eggs. My dad and I have discussed our respective fried egg preferences and reasons for those preferences, not once. So while it was very sweet of him to start working on frying eggs for me this morning, I'm glad I stopped him in time, since when I came into the kitchen, I saw him frying two pieces of bread with holes in them (he would later fry the eggs into the holes). Which defeats the whole purpose of having the bread there. To catch the yolk. Again, not complaining-- it was very nice of him-- just... shaking my head, since we've had that conversation so many times, perhaps even earlier that week.

I have to take a minute to dwell on my dad's quirks. He's very much a creature of habit, to the point that it's almost impossible to get him to change his ways on anything, just because that's the way he's always done it. Even things that are much, much, easier-- paying bills and filing taxes online; or more practical-- not slicing an entire loaf of fresh bread at once, so less of the uneaten part goes stale or dries out; are done the more difficult, impractical way, because that's the way he's always done things. This frustrates my mother no end. It frustrates me occasionally.

I can't draw the connection in words between my dad's resistance to change, and his try at frying eggs my way, but there's just something there and if you knew him it would make sense.