So my parents came to Europe for two weeks. Below is proof that they are, in fact, crazy.
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I noticed my face wash cap was not properly closed for the second day in a row (thus eliminating me as the culprit since the day before I made sure to close it tightly). Since the tube was of the stand upside down variety, this was causing major leakage so I asked my mom if she was using it:
Me: Hey mom, are you using my face wash?
Mom: No.
Me: [puzzled] hmmm…
Dad: What’s the problem?
Me: [holding up the tube] Well it’s leaking because someone didn’t close it properly.
Dad: Oh I’ve been using it…
Me: [my dad uses face wash?]
Dad: As shampoo.
Me: [bingo]
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My mom is someone who is not what you would call “technologically savvy”. For example when we got call waiting, instead of learning to pushing a button, she would instead come running all over the house to ask someone to switch over for her with panic in her voice.
Anyways so she’s not real good with digital cameras so my dad and I end up taking all the pictures. Which means my dad and I could never be in a picture together because she never takes them. I decided to ease her into the digital age and showed her how to do it.
Unfortunately zooming was too much for her to handle so she opted instead for manual zoom. By this I mean she would walk closer to or further from the object of the picture in order to decrease/increase the size. And she would do this while still in the position of the “slightly crouched down bent knees still looking through the viewer” position oblivious to anyone or anything that might be occupying the space in which she was moving towards.
You can imagine it took her a pretty long time to take any picture. And any humor I got from watching her ridiculous tactics was overshadowed by my sympathy for any poor soul nice enough to wait for her to take the picture before walking through her line of sight.
After one particularly long photo session, I decided to check out her picture taking ability to see if the whole process was worth it. Except, there was no picture. I clicked back through all the other pictures.
She never managed to take a picture. Not a single one.
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My parents are terrible travelers. As in my father is always asking “What’s so special about this place?” (read: I am not impressed, why is this famous) and my mom is always demanding to leave as soon as we set foot anywhere.
Take for example the Vatican. The entire time my mom wanted to rush through and barely took any time to admire the great beauty that surrounded her. When she finally got her way and we exited the Sistine Chapel, we stopped by the gift shop.
There she sees a calendar with pictures of the Sistine Chapel . I then have to witness as she takes out her glasses (glasses which have firmly remained in her fanny pack before this moment), puts them on, and exclaims with awe: “Wow, how exquisitely beautiful!”
Right, you took a 7 hour flight, a 12 hour train ride, and spent how much money to come to Europe? To do what? Admire a PICTURE of the Sistine chapel in the Sistine chapel BOOKSHOP after just snubbing the real thing a few steps away?
Right.
By the way I know I have been very delinquent in my blog updates. This one’s for you, L Bossy.
