My parents called me tonight to warn me about the fact that there will be storms where I live tomorrow. My stepdad suggested that I should sleep in my basement, until I noted that the storms won’t be showing up until tomorrow afternoon. My mother then proceeded to worry over the fact that I teach students and that they can kill me. And then she was concerned that my car insurance might go up.
May I remind us all that I am 37 years old? And that these people used to talk to me just one time per week when I was much younger and much more foolish?
Clearly they always had these impulses, but before the era of free long distance they were more worried about spending five bucks than they were about my safety. Now, however, these people have FREE FREAKING REIGN to express all of their dumb concerns. When I accused my mother of being a helicopter parent, she said, “well, of course I am!” She then noted that G. would be calling to check on me tomorrow.
So the next time you think that your students’ parents are assholes, let’s just note that LOTS of parents – even of grown-ass women – are also assholes. I mean, I love them and everything, and it was a very funny conversation, in which at one point I noted that I did understand that I should go to the basement if things looked grim, and in which my mother suggested that Mr. Stripey would be the one to sound the alarm (even though he cares about no one but himself and can’t even meow properly), and in which my mother suggested that I needed to go into the basement area under the porch – that the basement alone is not good enough – because when the tornado hits it will suck me out of my basement door (apparently). At one point, I, exasperated, said, “so now that you guys have alerted me to the potential for a tornado, what exactly am I supposed to do? Change the path of the storm?!?!” And my mom said, “YES!!!!” She then inarticulately emoted about the fact that I live in “tornado alley” and I responded that even if I lived in freaking California she would think I lived in tornado alley. (This is true: when I lived in Boston she also had grave concerns about tornadoes and my well-being should a freak tornado strike, particularly when I lived in what amounted to a person’s attic.) She admitted this was the case and then laughed her head off, to the point that she got the hiccups.
At any rate, it’s my spring break! Huzzah! A week free in which to write!
Now time to settle in for a quiet evening before my parents begin calling me tomorrow.