It's official: I'm becoming my father.

My parents are lively and active people. The word 'retirement' is akin to the most offensive of curse words in their eyes, I think. Over drinks when my dad was in town, he said: "I hate that word." And I swear he was this close to spitting on the ground to show his disdain. All I know is that my parents never stop working, never stop moving, and never stop partying. My dad is in his seventies and he still travels for work all the time - not because he has to, but because he wants to.

And my mom is basically Wonder Woman. She's a very successful real estate agent, she teaches six jazzercise classes a week (the majority of them at 5:45 in the GD morning!), she has two horses that she trains and takes care of almost every day, and she cooks dinner every freaking night.

 

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And yet, I manage to be surprised if they don't answer the phone when I call.

Me: I think my parents find me dull.

The Mr: Why?

Me: Neither one of them is answering their phone! Do I call too often? Are they sick of me? You know, most parents would love it if their kid just called to say hi as often as I do, but they're totally ghosting me! Do they think I'm boring?

The Mr: Maybe they do.

Me: ...thanks, babe.

And then later that night, my dad called me. HE CALLED ME.

Me, too excitedly: Hi, Dad!

Dad: Hey, how are you?

Me: Great! How are you?

Dad: Well, I'm okay. Your mom is in Chicago visiting your sister and the new baby, so I'm just sitting in the parking lot of <LOCAL RESTAURANT>, trying to decide whether or not to go in and get dinner... there are a lot of cars here, so I don't know... or maybe I should call Nick and see if he wants to meet.... I don't know, we've been hanging out a lot this week since both of our wives are out of town... maybe he's sick of me.

The Mr: Did you see that apple just fall from that tree?

But maybe this is a good thing... because maybe it means that I'm also going to be a superhero who travels the world!

Or maybe this means my future just involves a closet full of leotards.

 

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Everything could be terrible. I wouldn't know.

My family has a weird way of dealing with crises on various levels. Correction: My parents have a weird way of dealing with crises on various levels. My siblings seem to do just fine with this sort of stuff. Allow me to explain. Example #1: 

A text I received from my father at 4:30AM on Thanksgiving morning: IMG_2635

This was something that could not wait until the normal hours of the morning. No. I needed to be woken up from my deep pre-thanksgiving slumber for CHAIRS. This type of emergency is not something you fuck around with and wait to alert someone about. Chairs are very important. Middle-of-the-night important.

This brings me to Example #2:

A phone call I received from my father about a week after Thanksgiving around 8:30 in the evening:

A quick note, my father has a very thick and sort of angry sounding Swedish accent, so when you read his part, try and imagine that in your head. 

Me: Hello?

strange pause followed by loud crowd noises in the background

Me: Hello?

Dad: Hello?

Me: Dad?

Dad: Are you there? I can barely hear you!

Me: I think that might be because of wherever you are. Where are you?

Dad: I'm out!

Me: Oh, sure.

Dad: How are you?

Me: Fine... you?

Dad: I'm good. So listen, I'm calling because I need to talk to you about something, but before I tell you, you need to know that everything is fine and that you don't need to worry, so don't freak out, okay?

Me: That's a terrible way to keep someone calm.

Dad: Your mom is in the emergency room and she's been there for about four days, okay?

Me: WHAT?

Dad: EVERYTHING IS FINE.

Me: What happened?

Dad: Well, last week when we were still in New York, we were walking around and having a nice time and then Mom got really dizzy all of sudden and almost passed out... So then we came back to Ohio -

Me: -You traveled? 

Dad: Let me finish! We came back to Ohio and she still didn't feel good, so I took her to the hospital and it turns out she had some scar tissue in a vein and it was causing a blockage, blah blah blah, but everything is fine and she's okay, okay?

Me: Um... okay?

Dad: And we didn't tell you guys because we didn't want you to worry because everything is okay.

Me: Yes, but everything was not okay four days ago...

Dad: I know! That's why we didn't tell you until just now.

Me: But what if everything wasn't going to be okay? How long would you have waited to tell me? What if things were really bad and then you just kept waiting to tell me if or when everything was okay? This seems like a terrible system.

Dad: Emelie, EVERYTHING IS FINE.

Me: I know, but -

Dad: - Don't worry about it. There's something else I need to talk to you about.

Me: Oh God, what now? Is the dog okay? Are you okay?!?

Dad: There's a book that I want you to look into getting for me.

Me: ...oh, sure.

 

So everything really is okay. I talked to my mom, who found this entire story to be incredibly amusing, and apparently she just needs to take aspirin every day or something and that solves all her problems? I don't really know, but I've been assured that everything is okay and I am not to freak out, although now I know I can't trust my parents, which I told them over and over again after this whole debacle concluded. They think that's just adorable.

 

In other news, my giveaway ends in just four days, so you should get on that, because you deserve a free shirt.

 

Also, new Page Break episodes. Go check those out.