Friday afternoon and evening I’ll get into the backseat of my mom’s car and she, my dad and I will take the brief trip to see my brother and his family. This means that I will be in the car with my mom and dad for one of the maybe three times since leaving home**. We get along, we do a lot of things well, but we don’t carpool often or successfully. Being over 30 and being in the backseat will no doubt make me feel as though I’ve regressed, especially when my dad asks the following questions (my answers are also here provided since I know them. This is a song and dance we know well).
“How is school?” “Fine.”
“Seeing anyone?” “Nope.”
“How’s the job hunt?” “Not too successful when I don’t have time to look.”
“You’re graduating when?” “December.”
“This December?” “THIS December.”
I love my dad.
I am, in fact, a daddy’s girl who is also extremely close to her mother – I never understood why the two were considered mutually exclusive. Be that as it may, this particular line of inquiry sends me over the edge every single time. Perhaps my mom will have pity on me and hand me a juice box or some fruit snacks, maybe both. It would be fitting. Or I could do what I used to do as a kid – pretend to be asleep.
**The last time this happened was my grandmothers’ funeral, and the only other incidence that comes to mind is also a funeral. Still, onward ho!