conversations with my family
So my father calls me the other day...
Dad: Call your mother.
Me: ...aren't you with her?
Dad: No. I'm with your uncle.
Me: Which one? You have seven brothers.
Dad: Bob.
Me: Ah. Wait, where's mom?
Dad: With her cousin. I can't get a hold of her.
Me: So you want me to call her.
Dad: Yes. It's going straight to voice mail.
Me: You can just try to call her later.
Dad: No, I need to get a hold of her now.
Me:...Why? What'd you do?
Dad: Bob's coming home with us.
Me: ...what?
Dad: He's dying.
Me: He's been dying for years.
Dad: He's coming home with us.
Me: Does mom know this?
Dad: That's why you need to call her.
Me: You want me, to call my mother and tell her that Crazy Uncle Bob is coming home with you, permanently?
Dad: Yes.
Me: This sacrificial goat does not want the job.
Dad; You have to do it.
Me: O rly?
Dad: She'll take it better coming from you.
...And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why real life will always be stranger than fiction. Yes, I got a hold of my mother. Yes, she didn't take it very well, but she'd been kind of expecting a move like this for a while. At least this way they don't have to pay for his rent anymore. There's always a bright side. Even if you have to find it with copious amounts of alcohol.
*wanders away for more tea*