Parents Weekend

My folks were down this weekend. Although most people I meet just assume I was left on a wolf den door by a band of mentally challenged gypsies (how else to explain the phenomenon of getting lettuce caught behind my ears while eating tacos?), I in fact, am from a proud and noble band of McBanks'.

And, let the record show, my parents tried their best to show me how to ingest a hard shelled taco like a civilized person, I swear. I just get SO excited when they are in front of me, that I kind of black out while I'm eating them. Next thing I know, I've eaten 3/4 pound of ground beef, two cups of cheese, all the taco shells, and am just shaking old el paso taco sauce onto my tongue before someone finally throws water on me and snaps me out of my trance. But, this post isn't about how awesome taco dinner night is. Moving on...

I like having the parents visit for a variety of reasons. For one, they are very nice to the Wonderdog and the Owen Monster. And, the animals are irrationally attached to my parents. This happens with the Velogirl's parents as well. I know I shouldn't get jealous, but I kinda hate the two animals for showing affection so quickly to people that don't feed them every day. I know, it's not rational.

For two, I like how my parents almost never say "FUCK!" while performing a U-turn in the middle of a cornfield near St. Michaels, MD. Although it has been known to happen. Did it happen this weekend? no comment.

For three, they are just real nice folks who make friends wherever they go. At a certain point in the weekend, my parents were able to talk to someone for five minutes and discover that she was married to someone from Rhode Island. I have conversations all the time, but I usually manage to say something rude before 'potential common areas of interest' are brought up. That skill must skip a generation. Another three minutes, and the same woman is giving them lunch recommendations based on appetite, proximity to water, and possible food allergies. I mean, c'MON!

My mom also had the hostess at a restaurant tell her that she liked the way she "smells". Had I been put in the same situtation, I probably would have given the person my best "are you out of your goddamn mind? HOW DARE you address me so informally!" stare, but she handled it really graciously. If it is even possible to be gracious when a total stranger admires your scent. Jury is still out on that one.

Most of all, the Velogirl and I have been spoiled the past two weekends with back to back visits from our family. It's nice to know there are people out there who care about you, no matter what the 'ell happens, or how many mexican restaurants you are thrown out of due to overexcited eating.

Now that I have the Wonderdog's undivided attention once again, I kind of wish I didn't.