Cabin Fever

Hello all,

Last night is snowed 14 in. around my house. Mom got off school for the day, I was off work, and Dad’s wallet was lost. It has been a long day being trapped in the house, much like The Shinning without any of the entertaining dead people or waves of blood. I assume that if we were strangers we would have systematically killed each other by now and worn the previous victim’s scalp as a headdress, but seeing as how we are in a recession and not in the way of paying for a funeral, we have avoided this costly expenditure.

“YES MOTHER, I know how to do my laundry”

“Yes, I have seen that it has snowed and it IS amazing.”

“No, I do not commonly watch this soap opera, and seeing as how you have no consideration for me, please watch whatever the hell you want.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT?!? I don’t have a problem with you, but the problem I have with you IS is that you are not listening to me!”

Now I must confess that I did not say all of these things, but I did say some of them. Can you guess which ones I did say? You’ll be surprised.

My grandparents are like birds and retreat to Florida resulting in my dad collecting all of their movies for the entire winter. He get’s The King and I, yay, Fiddler on the Roof, yay, and Centennial, a miniseries about 100 years in American history told through the acting of a handful of C-list actors from the eighties, boo. My mom tells me that I would like it if I just sat down and watched it, but somehow a movie where a sandy-haired Mark Harmon and Pocahontas save the West from the imperialistic U.S. Navy does not interest me.

Yesterday I decided that I was sick of eating the same old 5 meals my mom makes and that I would delve into the culinary world and make my parents dinner. I went to the market and bought the ingredients to make fresh green beans, mashed potatoes with sweet and Yukon potatoes-from scratch, and stuffed bell peppers. All things I can make from memory, thank you very much.

I cooked for 3 hours. 3!, with no help from anyone. I served the plates and when Mom came into the kitchen and picked up one of the beans and ate it she rolled her eyes at me.

Me: “what.”

Mom: “Nothing. No, nothing.”

“I like them crunchy, that’s how I like them.”

“No, no, I think there fine, but I’m not so sure your father is going to like them.”

Dad looked as though there was an invisible man with a gun to his head throughout the whole meal. “Come on man!!!! Eat the God damn fresh food prepared for you by your most talented son!!!!” I imagine the man would say. Dad would lumber over to the other side of his plate and begrudgingly place a morsel in his mouth.

Half way through the meal Mom said, “……..Now, would it offend you if I get some ketchup for this?”

“I don’t care what you do,” I said.

“Well, there is no need for that!!!” she said as she drowned my balanced and nutritious meal in generic ketchup.

I will not be cooking for them again anytime soon. And just so we’re clear, the food tasted great.