Sunday, I took my parents to the big bad city for dim sum! Mikey, oodie extraordinaire, recommended Lucky Fortune, and he's never steered me wrong yet. (And the name just reeks authenticity, doesn't it?) Members of the crew joined us - I shouldn't be the only one entertained by my parents hijinks.
Examples: My dad kicked me out of my chosen seat next to Sobriquette so that he could talk to my friends because he "can talk to [me] anytime." Nice. I had some kind of an elbow war with my mother - to the amusement of SJM and oodles. But, seriously, she was going to totally take me out! Seven of us stuffed to the gills, $40 tab. Honestly. Why haven't the browns latched on to dim sum yet? (We even had food to take home!)
I took my parents on a meandering tour of SF, culminating in my intended neighborhood - Bernal Heights. (I'm also flirting with Mission Dolores, but what happens on movoto stays on movoto.) So yeah - what I now know about my mother: she *hates* driving on hills. We were driving down a babyish hill and she freaked out. (Kind of made me glad I didn't take her to some of the more "breath-taking" hills in SF!) We walked around and took in the annual Fiesta on the Hill. We went to two open houses - one was so awful that my father, after careful consideration, decided that if the house was given to him gratis, he would accept it.
We drove back to the Peninsula and I became more and more snappish. I am not secretive re: needing alone time. This visit, thus far, not a lot of alone time. I ended up taking a "nap" - i.e. a way to sleep in my own bed (as opposed to my" hugely comfortable, but still not my bed" couch) and to get some alone time. We went to a family friend's house for dinner. These people, and some of the guests, have known my parents since their Stanford days. Because I didn't grow up with family nearby, it's always a trip to see these people who look and act so different from my family, but still have stories of me as a baby (and, as I realise now, tales of my parents at my age - OR YOUNGER! My mother was 26 when she had me.)
I've hit the [couch] every night before 10 pm, but I'm exhausted. It takes a lot of energy to be "on" all the time - and that's what I feel I have to do. Maybe just because this is the first visit? One more day, and a pre-dawn trip to OAK and my parents winged their way back to DC.
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3 comments:
That line from your daddy-o about being able to talk to you anymore (justifying the need to sit near your friends) is nothing but classic. Hilarious.
I know exactly what you mean about it being exhausting when you have to be "on" all the time. When the parentals visit, you have to be the constant and vigilant source of entertainment, a role I don't particularly relish a lot of the time!
I meant ANYTIME, not ANYMORE. D'oh!
I totally loved how you transformed from brilliant legal mind and astounding blogger into an 8-year-old girl in their presence: "MOOOOM! QUIIIIT EL-BOW-ING ME!"
This is what had Oodles and me in such a state. :-D
Ok, it really is time for the bed now.
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