Over the past few days I have had plenty of time to catch up with the parental units. My mom retired a couple of months ago, so I think they are rather craving company other than their own. Even though they have been married over 35 years, both being home most the time is a bit much love to ask of anyone.
At one point over the last few days, I had a very interesting conversation while alone with my mother, which I have been sharing with people since it happened.
My mom and I were alone in the living room having a discussion of nothing in particular when suddenly she shouted at the cat, "Naya! Get out of that room, you know you are not supposed to be in there!" referring to the guest room in which I have been staying.
"She isn't supposed to go in there?" I asked, confused.
"No" she replied curtly.
Completely clueless, I ask, "Why?"
"Because your dad sleeps in there during the week."
Crap. I gotta ask. "He does? For naps or something?
Stumbling and rather incoherent, my mother gets out something along the lines of, "No because his snoring and my tossing and turning and we don't get much sleep."
So I stop asking questions.
At this point in the story normally my audience gets quiet, squirming in their seats, obviously uncomfortable. See, they happened to focus on the wrong thing.
That thing being that MY PARENTS HAVE A STANDING APPOINTMENT TO SLEEP TOGETHER EVERY WEEKEND. Ahem. Ahem.
Dude, I just don't want to know.
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