Saturday morning

If you think mom has let anyone forget about the lamp, you don't know my mother.

I hadn't slept well; it was a noisy Friday night, and a couple of people decided to have a middle-of-the-night conversation right outside my house. It's quieter on the alley side, where the guestrooms are, so my parents slept through the night. Anyway, I would have slept later but Gracie decided to be especially vocal around 6am.

I got up, fed her, read the paper. My dad came down, talked for a bit, went back upstairs. Mom still wasn't up. I decided to do yoga.

Not long into it:

Mom: Ask A. where the towels are!
Dad: A., where are the towels?
A.: I gave you two towels last night. They're in the white thing next the closet in your room.

Five minutes later

Dad: I still can't find them.
A.: Just a minute!

Dad: Oh, you did tell me they were here.
A.: I told you both they were there, but whatever. You'd had a long day.

I get back to yoga. I hear bickering.

Dad: It's her house!
Mom: So? I'm entitled to my opinion!
Dad: She's entitled to her decor!
Mom: I just can't believe it! Look at all of these inadequate lamps!
Dad: Next time, don't ask. Just bring it.
Mom: That's a good idea.

I'm still doing yoga.

Mom: A.! Do you have a comb!
A.: Just a minute.

Mom: And not a nightgown! Do you need a nightgown?
A.: No.
Mom: Dad's right: the way to go is to just bring stuff without asking permission.
A.: Mom, I sleep in t-shirts and boxers and always will. I have no use for "nightgowns."

Mom: It's just so dark everywhere!
A.: It is?
Mom: I mean, it's not now, but it will be at night! That's why you need a lamp.
A.: There are overhead lamps in all these rooms, plus table lamps.
Mom: That lamp could go so many places.
A.: I really don't want to hear about this lamp all weekend.
Mom: I don't care what you want!

A.: What do you all want for breakfast?
Dad: Whatever you usually have for breakfast.
A.: I usually have oatmeal, which you don't abide.
Dad: I'll have eggs then.
A.: Okay.

I get our respective breakfasts ready. Mom keeps asking unrelated questions.

A.: How many eggs do you want?
Mom, from the other room: The cat's rubbing up against me. What does that mean?
A.: I don't know, mom. You've had cats longer than I have.
Dad: Two, please.
A.: Non-stick or cast iron?
Dad: Whatever you normally use.
A.: It doesn't matter: just tell me and I'll get whichever.
Mom: Do you believe in high power?
A.: What?
Mom: Do you believe in high power?
A.: I don't understand the question.
Mom: She's rubbing up against me again. What does that mean?
A.: I don't know, mom.
Mom: Like, spirituality. Do you believe in higher meaning and stuff?

[Clattering noise from near the pot rack in the kitchen]

A.: What are you doing??
Dad: You said to just take whichever skillet I wanted.
A.: No, I said tell me and I'd get it for you.
Dad: Where's the salt?
Mom: Or do you just believe in what's physically visible?
A.: Right here.
Mom: She's rubbing up against me again. What does that mean?

Mom asked for tea before breakfast, and something sweet to go with it.

Mom: You don't have dried fruit?
A.: No. I've plenty of fresh fruit.
Mom: I'll have chocolate, then. What about nuts?
A.: That we can do.
Mom: Walnuts are the best. Edgar Casey says almonds, too.
A.: Various nuts are good for you in various ways. You don't have to stick with one.
Mom: Generally, walnuts are the best.

Dad found the chocolate they'd brought for the road. Mom had a good candy-bar-sized chunk. We had breakfast.

Mom: I can't finish this oatmeal! I can't believe you can eat all that oatmeal! I just don't eat that much.

We were going to go for a walk after breakfast, but mom crashed so dad started working on the fence. Later, when mom and I were planting stuff, he called me out to help him. He started explaining what to do.

Mom: You have so much clay in your soil!
A., Dad: Just a minute, mom!
Mom: I can help! What can I do?

She comes over. Dad continues to explain. Mom continues to talk.

Mom: What about this?
Dad: Just wait a second.

It's like over the holidays, when I was undoing whatever clusterf* she'd gotten into on her new laptop. She thought it was helpful to look over my shoulder and suggest things, even though she had no idea what was going on.

Mom: You'll definitely need wheels.
A.: Mom!
Dad: T.!

At some point in the morning, dad walked by one of my coffee tables, which still bore evidence of my pathetic and short-lived effort to learn Katakana.

Dad: Did you actually try to learn a few words in Japanese?
A.: I learned more than a few words. I learned lots of words. Just hardly any that were useful.

Dad asked about it. I demoed the program.

RS: [Sentence in Japanese]
Mom, simultaneously: What is he saying?
A.: Mom!

Repeat. And repeat again. RS is hard enough without someone talking over it.

Dad said he wouldn't need us for a bit, so I suggested to mom that we walk down to the Russian store, just for her to see it. He said to look at smoked fish. I warned mom it was lame and overpriced. Nonetheless, she walked in, looked at a few things, and stormed out.

A.: What is wrong with you?
Mom: I've seen enough! This is pathetic.
A.: Of course it is.

She then launched into a lecture about how much less things cost at the Russian stores in Boston.

A.: I know that mom. I thought you might be curious. And dad said to look at smoked fish.
Mom: I knew just from looking at the frozen stuff--we need nothing from there!
A.: Did you not want to take another thirty seconds to walk through?
Mom: No! I've seen enough!
A.: Okay.