Day Eight

What I Say:  My personal chef, Gardener, Mr. Fix-It and Nanny have returned!

What I Mean: My parents are back from their winter in Vegas! They still spoil me and my family rotten, and I’m not afraid to admit it!!!! Can I help it if my Dad likes to plant flowers and pull weeds? Like I’m going to ruin his fun! And really, who else but my Mom is going to teach my kids how to sew and do laundry? Certainly not me, since I may have mentioned that I absolutely suck at laundry. Who in their right mind would refuse an offer like “dinner is ready and on the table, come on over…” after a long day at work? You don’t say no when an old-fashioned Italian offers you food. The big family joke is when my Dad offered someone an Italian sausage from his big pot of Sunday Gravy. Dad said, “Do you like sausages?” The guest said “No.” My father proceeded to scoop two fat sausages out of the pot and said, “Well, you’ll like mine!”

If I don’t do a load of whites soon, I’ll be going back to Wal-Mart to buy everyone their own new package of Faded Glory socks! The scary thing is that I’ve done this before. If there ever comes a day when I actually get through the 20 something loads of laundry in my basement, each member of my family will have 100 pairs of friggen socks!