I give them a Jack Chick tract, and a lecture on how they’re going straight to hell.
Not really.
Do you also give trick or treaters raisins? I bet you do. 
Of course she didn’t call. The button is for emergencies.
My grandmother did the “help I’ve fallen and can’t get up but it’s not an emergency because I am not dead” thing, right before she went into the hospital and eventually long term care. My dad had a wild time with her.
Now dad has the tv set either at -6 for volume because his hearing aid is cranked up to 11 or his hearing aid is out and the tv is rocking the house foundations. Either way I can’t talk to him. Damn. It is happening, no matter how many stupid email forwards I get about hating Obama. (We are Canadian, and Liberal*. And not racist, at least until his Shriner buddies in the US started emailing him “jokes”)
And while he emails, and texts, and stuff, he boycots Wallmart because of the self scanners. (This is probably the coolest thing about him currently, our reasons for the wal-hate differ but currently that is our go-to conversation after family gossip runs out.)
I love my dad, and he is intellegent and kind, but the casual observer might not know this.
*Well he is, I’m considerably left of that.
A few years ago my sister was running the L.A. Marathon and my parents and I went to watch her. She was supposed to meet us at the exit of the marathon, but after an hour, we still hadn’t found her. I suggested to my parents that they check their cellphone for messages from her but they just gave me a look of frightened confusion. They’d had this phone for two years and still had no idea how to check the voicemail.
My mum is a world traveller, she texts, she uses “that skippy thing” (Skype), but when I added my internet connection to her laptop, she was afraid it would change the settings on her PC back at home.
At first you are embarrassed by your kids, but later on you embarrass them. At 73, I have long passed the first age, but clearly I embarrass them regularly. Usually for trivial things. Like the flip-up sunglasses I like to use that they consider so 20th century (although I am convinced they are best for driving with, but are now unobtainable apparently).
Also, guys develop paunches and the pants don’t stay up unless they’re belted around an area that’s not the widest part of their abdomens.
What kind of foreign are they, by the way? I just want to know what to picture.
Christ on a cracker! I read your post thinking “my folks are getting there, but I’m glad they’re not as old as Gestalt’s folks yet…”
And they ARE! They’re 59 (mom) and 60 (dad). You’re right, they totally seem like they’re 80.
I love love love when my dad gets off the phone with his dad and goes on a rant about how stubborn grandpa is about going to the doctor, and how grandpa’s political views are stupid and skewed, and how grandpa talks too much about these stupid tv shows he likes, and how grandpa does too much work around the house, and how grandpa is cheap, and how grandpa is judgmental, and how grandpa doesn’t always understand what you tell him the first time around.
I love this because these are EXACTLY the things I think when I get done visiting with him (my dad). Dad needs some surgery he won’t get done. Dad is a lifetime union guy who suddenly votes Republican. Dad talks incessantly about Seinfeld and America’s Funniest Home Videos. Dad cleans his own gutters when he shouldn’t. Dad wears $5 shows. Dad is judgmental. Dad takes 2 or 3 times to comprehend a statement.
He totally doesn’t see how he’s exactly like his dad. Too funny
According to my 20 year old the flip ups are very in right now
My parents can be like that sometimes. Drives me nuts. Especially the tipping thing. I know tipping is a foreign concept to people that aren’t used to American culture and sometimes it can seem like you’re getting ripped off but Jesus Christ it’s only a few dollars.
On the other hand, we used to be so poor that buying baby formula was a huge burden, so I suppose old habits die hard.
Hm, my parents are both in their early 60s, but I think they’re pretty much still with it. My dad is definitely more up to date on music than I am. I think he actually hates Republicans even more now than he did when he was an undergrad at Berkeley in the 60s.
ON THE OTHER HAND, my parents got rid of their cell phones because they a. never used them and b. (my private assumption) couldn’t figure out how to use them in the first place. My mom couldn’t figure out how to press a single button repeatedly to get to multiple letters associated with that number (like how you have to press 1 twice to get the B, you know?), so her address book was insane and made no sense to anyone but her. I don’t think my dad even had an address book on his phone.
And I discovered several years ago that my mom tips 10%. :eek: My sister and I were horrified. She was horrified that we tip 20%. Apparently we are big spenders. Ha ha ha.
It used to be that 10% was the customary tip. Then it was 15%. Now it’s 20%. And there are people suggesting that 25% is more appropriate.
Aw, screw all that math. My standard tip for myself only is $2.00. If there was extra running around for whatever reason, or extra effort, I may give more. That goes for servers, drivers, delivery people whatever. Movers or hairdressers get more because there’s more work involved. More upscale restaurants or services may get up to $5.00. That’s it.
I’m so glad to read this thread. My mom is 68, and a lot of this is sounding familiar. I do love her very much, but after about the second day of her visiting, I want to yell at her a little bit. “STOP HELPING ME! STOP ASKING ME OBVIOUS QUESTIONS! GET A DAMNED HEARING AID!” On her last visit we finally had a discussion about the helping - she has four daughters, ages 39-47; we are all married and own our own homes. We are all completely set in our ways in how we look after our households; while we all appreciate her help when she’s visiting, when she tries to show us better ways (read: HER way) to do things, it doesn’t go over so well, and she doesn’t understand why we get exasperated with her.
The hearing aid thing is getting awfully annoying, too; “You guys all talk so quietly.” No, mom, we don’t. She actually went to an audiologist, and the report she gave us was that her hearing was normal. I doubt this very much; I suspect the report was, “Your hearing is normal for your age.” but somehow she missed hearing that part.
She does the under-tipping thing, too. I always want to sneak a buck or two onto the table if she’s stiffed the server.
My dad finally went to an audiologist who said his hearing was great. My mother and I privately decided that it’s his listening that’s the problem.
Hey, thats a good idea.
Mine has been doing that for at least twenty years, she’s 70 now. She’s informed me that she doesn’t tell me because she wants me to know, she tells me because she needs to tell someone, so I’ve asked her to say my name when she wants actual attention rather than a polite stream of “aha”, “oh really?” and “isn’t that amazing”. Between her and her parents I’ve been doing the polite-stream thing since my age was in single digits, I’ve got it down pat.
She’s been told her hearing is fine for her age. I’ve told her that doesn’t mean her TV’s volume is fine for my age, so long as she keeps it that high I will not stay in the living room while the TV is on. And that’s nowhere near as high as her mother has it (Gramps passed away last month). A couple months ago, Mom was beaming because she’d been able to find some programs the Oldsters could watch without trying to hear them despite not having their hearing aids on: history and nature documentaries.
The cringing? Yeah, I’ve been practicing.
Another time I was hanging around outside the church and there was this guy running around the graveyard looking for a lost hymn sheet, in a chorister’s robe three sizes too big and I thought ‘who’s that doofus?’ Guess who.
Another time in a wedding, with like 200 people in the congregation, the pastor made a vaguely amusing aside during the sermon. There was a polite ripple of quiet assent, except for two people who shrieked with fake laughter like two howler monkeys on helium. I looked round to spot the loonies and was mortified to see that it was my parents.