This newsletter is a weekly (sometimes) list of people I am mad at. For the last two weeks, uninterrupted, I was home with my family. This is the list about every upsetting thing they did for November 15, 2021.
My dad opened the bathroom door while I was in the shower to remind me to always close the door while I’m in the shower.
I was awoken at 7:30 in the morning by my mother who was drawing on my face with a four-inch long hot pepper.
My dad bought Halloween themed placemats — a thick white knit with pumpkins and bats on them — but despite having lived in Canada for the better part of 40 years, he still doesn’t understand the basics of pagan holidays, so he didn’t even realize they were Halloween-themed to begin with. That means he just…bought eight placemats with pumpkins and bats on them. He saw eight placemats with pumpkins and bats on them and thought “….Sure.” Anyway, none of us are allowed to use the placemats because they’re white and he doesn’t want us to ruin them.
My parents framed one of the local newspaper clippings about my book from five years ago and hung it right next to the front door so when anyone comes over for any reason at all, the first thing they see is a 25-point font that screams, “GARBAGE SOUL.”
My mom knit me a baby blanket. I reminded her that I am not pregnant, nor do I have any immediate plans to be. She replied with, “If you decide not to have a baby, at least you’ll have something to remember me by once I die.”
My niece asked me what a RadioShack is. (Was? Fuck.)
My dad kept calling Groundhog Day “hedgehog week.”
I sneezed twice and my dad scoffed and said, “Only two? Pathetic.”
My dad is now calling it Bergman Bergdorf.
My dad thinks Maid is actually about Alzheimer's.
I got myself a bowl of roasted chickpeas and my dad complained so much and so loud about how bad they were that I got a bowl of chips instead just to get him to shut up, and then he took all my chips.
My mom won’t let my dad watch football anymore because his blood pressure shoots up so high that it requires medical intervention. He doesn’t even have a team; just engaging with the game is liable to kill him.
Look at the size of this fucking chip bag.
My dad took over a video call I had with my editor and referred to my non-fiction work as “full of poetic license.”
My dad was frustrated that I have yet to clean out my childhood bedroom of my “garbage” but he has a box in the garage labeled “golf balls” and then another labelled “washed golf balls.” Every pot or pan they have ever possessed is under the stairs in the basement. He has kept every passport he has ever owned in his entire life.
My mom very desperately needs a knee replacement and now has almost no mobility but that bitch turns into fucking Flo-Jo as soon as she sees a single loose hair curled at the edge of the living room carpet.
The biscotti cookie car is full of rice. The other biscotti cookie jar is full of flour. There is no biscotti in this house.
My dad bought a 17-litre jug of canola oil to “save myself some scratch.”
My niece asked who does the voice of Principal Skinner and I told her it was Harry Shearer and then my dad said, “Oh yeah, the guy who runs TMZ.” THE GUY WHO RUNS TMZ, EVERYONE.
My dad kept taking all his calls on speakerphone because “the phone makes my ears hot” which meant we all had to listen to him call different Safeways in the city to find out who carries Sourdough Vienna. (Guess what: They all fucking do.)
I recently found out that when my mom Googles something, she writes the query out as, “What was beautiful actress Andi MacDowel in when she first started acting, what movie, do you know please.”
My dad put three plants in a giant ceramic popcorn bowl. I know it’s a popcorn bowl because it says “POPCORN” on the front. He did not realize it said popcorn until I showed him that it said popcorn.
I asked my mom if there was a Uniqlo in Calgary and she said, “No, but there is an LL Bee.”
My dad wouldn’t let us, as a family, watch a show that was rated PG-13 for some light kissing because he was too uncomfortable to watch it with me in the room, but he did make me watch four separate documentaries about neo-Nazis.
Ben Affleck.
Since we last talked, I wrote a little ditty about Pete Davidson, Kim Kardashian, and my love of chaos.
A Very Special List Of People I Am Mad At, 11/15/21
Parents are a trip and this was a hilarious read. Thanks for the smiles and chuckles.