This one's for (drew) you!

So, I hear tell that Stacey's brother in law, who happens to be a classmate of mine (he's in the same program as me!) gets a kick out of my family squabbles. By now, he could probably use my blog posts for a case study for a class assignment.

Two and a half weeks ago:
Dad: Did you mail it?
Me: uh... mail what?
Dad: didn't you get that stuff from Smith Barney?
Me: (thinking crap... crappity crap) "I get a lot of stuff from Smith Barney"
Dad: well, you need to send back that form.
Me: What form?
Dad: the form they sent you a few months ago!
Me: I don't know where that form is... (which means, I threw that piece of mail from Smith Barney into the gargantuan box of other smith barney crapola)
Dad: well, you need to find it and send it.

Ten days ago:
Dad: did you find it and send it?
Me: no. I didn't find it.
Dad: What's your email address?
Me: cynth dot c at gmail dot com
Dad: okay. cynthia...
Me: no dad. it's "c, y, n...
Dad: oh. I got it. Cynthia C...
Me: no dad. It's spelled c, y, n.."
Dad. Ok ok. cynthia ch**
Me: NO. It's JUST the cynth then a dot. then a c
Dad: ok ok. I got it. Cynthia
Me: (and mind you, i'm feeling like it would be less painful to drive myself off the bridge of the highway at this point and I begin yelling) It's C Y N T H DOT C AT G, as in George, MAIL, as in the MAIL you get in the MAILBOX, DOT COM
Dad: ok ok. i got it.
Me: no, I don't think you do, Dad.
Dad: ok. i'll email you at cynch**
Me: crap.

Me: uh, Tony? (calling in the troops, aka, my only brother, for support)
Tony: yeah.
Me: can you send an email to me and dad so he can have my email address? I was trying to spell it for him, but i don't think he quite got it.
Tony: ahahahahhahahaahahahahahahah. yeah.

*notice the lack of need for an explanation because my brother knew EXACTLY hwat I was talking about*

Sunday (the day the olympics ended)
Dad: Did you get my email?
Me: Yes.
Dad: So, you'll mail that stuff tomorrow?
Me: Yes
Dad: Did you address the envelope already?
Me: uh, no.
Dad: well? why not? why didn't you address the envelope as soon as you got the address?
Me: uh, why does it matter to you whether I address the envelope today or tomorrow?
Dad: (who's not listening at all) I don't know how you live like that. So sloppy. So inefficient. What stopped you from addressing the envelope as soon as you opened the email?
Me: Dad? why is it so important to you? do you have something else you wanna talk about? Because this kind of conversation is why i sometimes get annoyed with you.
Dad: I mean, geez, would it have killed you to have addressed the envelope TODAY?
Me: uh DAD? DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING ELSE TO TALK ABOUT?
Dad: I have plenty to talk about. Why didn't you address the envelope today?
Me: (thinking, crap. i can't believe hes' getting so worked up about a fucking envelope).
Dad: You know, I do everything as soon as I can.... blah blah blah
Me: (remembering how my g'ma told me that he used to procrastinate about his homework, remembering the phone calls from the hospital trying to track down my dad to finish his patient charts...)
Dad: Are you listening? Did you make plane reservations for the wedding?
Me: not yet
Dad: well, you know it's memorial day weekend. I mean, flights will fill up.
Me: uh huh
Dad: hmph.


Holy Krimony!!! Seriously... I post about this exchange because I know that if it were not happening to ME, that it would be quite funny. QUITE funny. I told my good friend that I felt like jumping off my balcony to end the pain. He said that at moments like these, it's best to bite your tongue. I'm thinking, I have too many moments like these to bite my tongue, b/c if I actually bit my tongue every time? I'd have bitten it clean through.


We'll resume knitting content over the weekend. I've got class on Fri and Sat(for which I've done no reading, no paper, and not much) but will find time to post.