Phone call

Mom and dad went to a friend's birthday celebration, at which the friend's daughter--who is training to be a professional opera singer--sang. Mom felt the need to blurt out, within the friend's earshot, that the singing wasn't very good. She shrugged it off: everyone was thinking it. Dad didn't really disagree, but still. Mom then took to complaining about how the friend's daughter is wasting her genes (by pursuing this career, at which she isn't very good, instead of having babies). Dad said, that's her call. Mom said, no! Genes are made to be propagated.

Dad asked what I did over the weekend, even though we'd talked then. I reminded him to see "Argo," said that "Anna Karenina" was said to be very good. They were both emphatic about refusing to see an in-English version of "Anna Karenina." I don't blame them; there would have to be plenty for them to take issue with. 

Mom then went on to be nice to me. We talked about my upcoming business trip. She said it was fascinating stuff, said "good job" for getting myself such a great gig (I'd have to agree).