The most curious thing happened to me the other day. I was out late making a diaper run for Marty. Yup, the night before our flight out, I hit up the PetSmart. While I was in the aisle trying to figure out what brand and what size, Dad Facetimed me. Yes, now that I’ve turned him on to FT, Dad is using that shit all the damn time. And then sometimes, he doesn’t even know the video is on, so I just see his ear bc he’s holding it like a regular phone. On this particular occasion, I saw his face, but the image was upside down. SMH. So anyway, Dad launches right into his tech troubles. He wrote an email and pressed send, but it wasn’t showing up in the his Sent Mail folder. This same issue happened two days ago, and when I checked his email on my phone, there were like three of the same damn message in the Sent Mail. WTF. Anyway, I tried to troubleshoot and then I got so irritated, bc every damn time, it’s the same cluelessness. First, he kept insisting it was a problem related to his email being hotmail but him using Outlook. No, that’s NOT the problem! Then, I ask if he has internet. Can he close the browser. What is the browser? Then, he says there’s some error saying the message couldn’t send due to an incorrect email address. Ok, can you put the pointer over the To box. What is the pointer? ARGH!!! I mean, if you are going to use the goddamn computer and internet, can you please learn the basic terminology, like home button, start button, cursor/pointer, window, and browser? Jesus Christ. I was getting so annoyed at the store. So then he keeps going on, and I’m checking out. The poor cashier dude. I told my dad to hold on while the sales guy told me about some charity promo and then an upcoming Halloween for Pets event. I did not engage, and I was probably super rude. Then, he complimented me on my brows. Said they looked amazing. So nice, right? I felt bad for being a distracted beotch.

I got into the car and proceeded with the troubleshooting. Every step is like impossible, so I said I was headed home and I’d call him back. Again, thank fucking goodness for remote computer access. Turns out the sent mail box was sorted by name rather than by date. After we got that done, dad kept asking me if I was ok. I mean, I hate when he asks that, which is like every damn time, bc it’s not like my parents have ever been able to handle any real response to that question, you know? And then he said I looked really haggard and tired. Yeah, no shit. Then, he goes off on a whole spiel about taking my allergy meds and doing the nasal spray. Ugh. Enough already. I’m 40 y/o: I am not my brother. I don’t need to be told how and when to wipe my ass. Anyway, it makes me think about all these personality profiles… for my type, I just really hate being told what to do. Nagging is THE worst way to interact with me. I dunno why my parents always insist on applying the same exact approach for everybody.

I know, I should cut them a break. Parenting is hard and all. Still. Just like how they wish I were different in so many ways (namely with the childfree thing), I wish they were different. Like the other day, dad was giving me the entire play-by-play on how to take the bus from the airport to the train station. Um, I did the exact thing last year. On my own (no Bubbey). I got it. It’s called the internet. But he’ll still go on and on. And man, if I’m going to be driving them around in Taiwan, I’m gonna lose my shit for reals if mom repeats her behavior from last year with the annoying as fuck backseat driving…

Ok. Gotta think positively. God help me keep my cool.