As you probably have surmised, I am immature and unhealthily attached to my family. This is otherwise known as "being Jewish." I hadn't seen them in a while and I now realize how much I missed them, even though they're really annoying and should be vaporized immediately. But there is never a dull moment in this funny farm.
My dad is sitting at the table playing apothecary fumbling to organize his 1001 medications (otherwise known as "being Jewish") and he starts bugging me to watch my mother take out the garbage. These are near verbatim quotes
Debbie's Dad: It's late. It's dangerous. Go watch your mother take out the garbage
Debbie: Dad, I'm doing something.
Debbie's Mom: I don't need anyone to watch me take out the garbage.
Debbie's Dad: Debbie, go watch your mother take out the garbage. We can't have anything happen to her. Who will cook supper?
After a few reprises of this chorus and debating the safety of our suburb vis a viz inner city slums, concluding that bad guys lurk in the bushes everywhere, I dutifully follow my trash toting mom to the door. My mother turns around to insist she doesn't need a guardian at which point I smugly said, "I'm just doing this to please dad. Something happens, you're on your own!"
I don't know if it was my comment or the look on my mother's face but I started laughing and couldn't stop.
One minute later
Debbie's Mom: You make a good point. If something happened, what could you do?
Debbie: Mom, I was *kidding* What do you mean 'what would I do', Kung...fu....theatre...stuff....
-Debbie shows mom her kung fu moves, which are notably un-kung-fu-ey-
Be aware that it's unusual to talk to my mom for longer than 5 minutes and not get a gross out story. I'm convinced that whoever first coined the 90's line "more information than I needed" got stuck in an elevator with my mother
Debbie's Mom: I remember when I cut my head open in high school gym -insert 'more information than you need' here- and all my friends ran away.
Debbie: I would've too. That's disgusting. But if it was funny I might've hung around.
I then recounted a story which to this day cracks me up because I remember it so vividly. It was during "davening", our morning prayers, and I'm standing 5 feet away from this girl, and she just falls. I don't know how. You mostly stand still during davening, sometimes you waddle a little but not enough to lose your balance. So she just falls, air can be slippery, I don't know...so myself and a few other concerned onlookers ask her if she's okay. She nods yes and while she's getting up, she slams her head into a table. She's bleeding and I'm laughing. Someone had to hit me to hush up. After some teachers escorted her out to get medical attention, I started laughing again. I had the bug, I couldn't help it. Oh it was just a few stitches, no one was vaporized! Then my mom told me that once her dad walked into an awning -insert 'more information than you need' here- and she started laughing hysterically so he hit her (walking into an awning is known to have a very negative effect on one's disposition) My brother once walked into a door, hurt his head badly, had to go to the hospital, the truly funny part about that incident is that since my brother likes to drink everyone just assumed he was smashed but in actuality he was completely sober when it happened. And finally, my mother reminded me of the time I showed her how to use the treadmill. Granted it's a no-brainer but my mom asked. I probably went a little overboard explaining the readouts but seriously, my mom was being very impatient. She started getting all snitty with me so I just pushed the treadmill on and up and my mother went flying. It's entirely possible that I subconsciously did this on purpose but really I was just responding to being harassed to "start the treadmill already." I was going to get to the part where you put your feet on the side, if she hadn't kept cutting me off. I wanted so badly to laugh but then I knew my mother would then think it was all intentional. She called me about 500 different names, nothing I hadn't heard before from a multiplicity of sources, and for a week I had to listen to more information than I needed about the aches and pains from her treadmill spill.
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.
----Deep Thoughts By Jack Handy
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