As you get older, you may start to realize that there are things about you that are starting to resemble your parents. Like, for me, my sneezes are getting more and more overpowering. This is scary to me because both of my parents have sneezes that can bring a brick house down. When my dad sneezes, people are concerned for him. He is a slightly built man, but the sound that comes out of him when he sneezes is like a lion on a megaphone. My mom’s is loud too. Like, it might hurt your ears if you were standing too close. My sneeze, so far, is not in ear-drum-blowing territory yet, but each year, my honker sneezes a little bit louder, and I am not ashamed to tell you that I am terrified of becoming a combo Disney Dwarf/Spice Girl hybrid named Scary Sneezy Spice.
In related news, did I ever tell you about Nordic Boy’s propensity, (well, it’s seldom, but it does happen every so often) to scream bloody murder at the tv screen? Let me tell you it is HIGH-LARIOUS. My theory is that he has a very specific gene sequence in his DNA that causes him to do this. To quote Will I Am, he got it from his momma. I love Nordic Boy’s mom. She is gregarious, energetic, the life of the goldarn party. She is one of these people that you don’t have to say a word to the whole time you are around her, because she is so vivacious and full of life and stories and jokes that she will just entertain you like a high energy vaudeville act until the sun comes up. No lie, she is a performer at heart- give her an audience and watch her go. I love it. Still, when you meet her, and you meet Nordic Boy, it’s truly hard to see where the heck he even came from because there is not a lot about them that is alike. Nordic Boy will not tap dance for you, figuratively or literally. Will not happen. He is not one to make a scene about anything, whereas his mom has a spotlight magnet hidden in her purse at all times. There are many other ways they seem quite opposite, not just temperament, and I shall spare you the list because it would take all day but you get the picture.
One thing Nordic Boy’s momma does is she yells at the tv. Tv is a two-way conversation as far as she is concerned and those effers on the screen more often than not need a good talking to and she will dress it up in a curse-filled bow while she is at it. Many of her comments are of a decidedly proletarian bent, where she is speaking up for the common folk who earn a living from the sweat of their brow. It is really a sight to see.
Nordic Boy doesn’t yell. Like, ever. I don’t think I have ever seen him yell and I have known him for eons. It’s just not in him to do so. First of all he doesn’t have much of a temper to begin with, so getting him to a point where he is even mad at all takes some doing. And if it does happen, yelling just does not come into the equation.
Every once in a blue moon, when we are watching tv, I SWEAR TO YOU HIS MOM POSSESSES HIM.
Last night, we were watching some economic meltdown coverage on BBC America. Everything is perfectly silent. I am typing on my laptop, and he is sitting across the room watching the show. And out of nowhere he yells out “THESE GODDAMN PEOPLE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK THEY ARE DOING! STUPID SHITHEADS. MAYBE IF THEIR ASSES HAD EVER WORKED AN HONEST DAY IN THEIR LIVES THEY WOULD WAKE UP! BUNCHA FUCKERS! JESUS THEY NEED TO GET THIS CRAP TOGETHER!”
And then, back to silence.
I looked at him, my jaw on the floor. He looked at me, his face as shocked as mine. And then we almost peed ourselves laughing.
“My mom!” he gasped. “She’s HERE.”
It’s in the DNA, people.