There have been many moments of raw feelings between my parents and me during my stay back in my teenaged bedroom at my parents’ home (while I transition back to living in Sydney), but there have also been many moments of sweetness and downright comedy as well.
I’ve worked every day straight for the past 4 weeks (late nights and 4 weekends) – revisions at the eleventh-hour are an inescapable fact of deadline-driven work. I’ve worked from home a lot of the time so as to wake early and start right away and cut out my 2.5-hrs of commute.
Today Dad whisper-shouted at me (he’s getting deaf) not to tell Mum where he was going and then left without telling me where he was going. After the door closed, Mum called out to me from her reading chair in the living room that she’s not as deaf as he is and that she’d noticed he hadn’t told me where he was going so how could I tell her?
He came back a couple of hours later wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses (think Tom Cruise Risky Business). He never wears sunglasses – he has a strong prescription and he wouldn’t spend money on prescription sunglasses because Mum wouldn’t let him because he loses them and she doesn’t like the waste of money. I noticed right away because:
a) they look really good on him; and
b) his tail was clearly wagging and he was very pleased with his “new toy” (and he really does need them because Mum and Dad are going on a golfing holiday next week a long drive away and the sun is very intense in Oz).
Mum noticed but didn’t say anything (in a loud way, like Dad’s whisper-shouting but silently, she’s very gifted at it) – grudgingly agreeing that he does need them, but not wanting to encourage such spendthrift behavior.
Later, I’m working on my laptop in the computer room, and Mum walks in with a plate of chopped apple and orange pieces for Dad’s afternoon tea, expecting him to be playing cards on the desktop computer. She dumps the plate down in front of the desktop and opens the curtain, “I BET he’s outside doing something just so he swan around in his new sunglasses. Yes, look at him. He’s making a full production of garden work just so that he can wear them. Well, I suppose one’s got to take the good with the bad in a 46-yr marriage.” and stalks back to her reading chair with her cup of tea and novel.
I can’t stop laughing at the pair of them, and I really want to eat Dad’s afternoon tea fruit. Mum didn’t bring me any.