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The Bed That We Sleep In
Jun. 28th, 2004 08:23 amMom and Dad showed the new house to me last night. Smaller, but only by one bedroom. I'm so going to fill the guest bedroom with all of my crap that's still at their house. I guess it's not a big deal since Laura and I have both stated that we'll probably never stay there.
We went to dinner, a sort of make-up for father's day since I was out last weekend, and we went for steaks. Call me a cheapskate, but I was not having fun paying the $80 tab (and none of us ordered anything alcoholic). Personally, if a meal costs me more than $20 a plate, I'm not happy...
They asked me how work is going, which is OK, but I haven't told them that I'm looking elsewhere. Dad wasn't thrilled a while back when I said I might start looking. He's one of those who thinks if you have a good job you should be able to make a career out of it. Not what he did, but that's what he says. I think he romanticizes his father a bit much, Granddad Edwards was at the same brick plant for more than 35 years running the operation.
On the way to take them back home, after I got gas at the lowest-priced place I know ($1.68!) I mentioned that I was in the parade the night before. Mom, who was all in her 20 questions mode earlier in the evening, asking about Chris and how last week's TCC concert went, etc., was interested. Dad, not so much, but in my car they were a bit of a captive audience.
I told them about the route, and what was going on. I didn't tell them much about the Big Men's Club - heck, I haven't explained bears to them either, so I'm not really ready to explain sub cultures to them. I did mention, for Dad's benefit that I was just in a T-shirt and shorts, not some outlandish get up. I also mentioned all of the families that cam e out to see the show. It was nice to discuss this with them. Still think Dad was a little uneasy with it.
I also got to throw in a little history lesson, explaining that most parades are in June because of the Stonewall riots, and how that one bit of resistance took a small movement and jump started it into what we today. Still a ways to go with the folks, but I was happy to give them this little tidbit.
At their home, Mom told me that they had been talking about meeting Chris. (Well, more like my Mom has been talking to Dad about meeting him.) Mom took my sentiment that I didn't think Dad was ready and didn't come up for dinner when Chris was here for Memorial Day. Mom told me that they (read Mom) would like to meet Chris if I brought him up for dinner, but they didn't want to come to my apartment and see us there.
Huh?
Now, in the three years since I moved from Conroe to Houston, Mom and Dad have never seen my apartment, and have shown very little interest in doing so. Mom's made a mention occasionally, but not enough to do anything about it (and make me take down those male dress-up magnets). Still, I don't exactly know what having Chris over changes. Maybe the association of the bed and us? What in the world will you do when I move in with the man, huh? Strange.
I promise, if he's here, and you want to come to the apartment, I'll make the bed. Would that help? I see your bed all the time (of course, nothing's happened there for years).
Well, we take it a little at a time. Progress, even in small increments, is good.
We went to dinner, a sort of make-up for father's day since I was out last weekend, and we went for steaks. Call me a cheapskate, but I was not having fun paying the $80 tab (and none of us ordered anything alcoholic). Personally, if a meal costs me more than $20 a plate, I'm not happy...
They asked me how work is going, which is OK, but I haven't told them that I'm looking elsewhere. Dad wasn't thrilled a while back when I said I might start looking. He's one of those who thinks if you have a good job you should be able to make a career out of it. Not what he did, but that's what he says. I think he romanticizes his father a bit much, Granddad Edwards was at the same brick plant for more than 35 years running the operation.
On the way to take them back home, after I got gas at the lowest-priced place I know ($1.68!) I mentioned that I was in the parade the night before. Mom, who was all in her 20 questions mode earlier in the evening, asking about Chris and how last week's TCC concert went, etc., was interested. Dad, not so much, but in my car they were a bit of a captive audience.
I told them about the route, and what was going on. I didn't tell them much about the Big Men's Club - heck, I haven't explained bears to them either, so I'm not really ready to explain sub cultures to them. I did mention, for Dad's benefit that I was just in a T-shirt and shorts, not some outlandish get up. I also mentioned all of the families that cam e out to see the show. It was nice to discuss this with them. Still think Dad was a little uneasy with it.
I also got to throw in a little history lesson, explaining that most parades are in June because of the Stonewall riots, and how that one bit of resistance took a small movement and jump started it into what we today. Still a ways to go with the folks, but I was happy to give them this little tidbit.
At their home, Mom told me that they had been talking about meeting Chris. (Well, more like my Mom has been talking to Dad about meeting him.) Mom took my sentiment that I didn't think Dad was ready and didn't come up for dinner when Chris was here for Memorial Day. Mom told me that they (read Mom) would like to meet Chris if I brought him up for dinner, but they didn't want to come to my apartment and see us there.
Huh?
Now, in the three years since I moved from Conroe to Houston, Mom and Dad have never seen my apartment, and have shown very little interest in doing so. Mom's made a mention occasionally, but not enough to do anything about it (and make me take down those male dress-up magnets). Still, I don't exactly know what having Chris over changes. Maybe the association of the bed and us? What in the world will you do when I move in with the man, huh? Strange.
I promise, if he's here, and you want to come to the apartment, I'll make the bed. Would that help? I see your bed all the time (of course, nothing's happened there for years).
Well, we take it a little at a time. Progress, even in small increments, is good.
