I love my parents. They are funny and quirky and very clever folks. They also live very far away from me.
I talk to them all the time. Sometimes, I call Dad more than once a day. I call him in the middle of the night. He almost always answers. So, when I couldn't get in touch with them all week, I got worried. I called Mom's attorney and made sure that I was still her primary beneficiary. He assured me that I still stood to inherit an assortment of dead houseplants, two cats, and her collection of refrigerator magnets. My sister gets the ottoman although, I am pretty sure that I can swindle her out of it. I have always been good at taking her stuff. I thanked him and got a good night's sleep for the first time all week.
Last weekend, Dad finally returned my calls. It seems that they went to Vegas. Apparently, cell phones don't work in Vegas and hence the saying that whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I think it's awfully clever of the Vegas Bureau of Tourism and Convention Sciences to use the dismal telecommunications system as a brilliant marketing tool.
I think I should mention that my parents are divorced. I don't remember them vacationing together when they were still married. Even when they got arrested at a hippie boycott, they didn't share a cell. When they visit me, they stay in an adorable B & B together. They have dinner together several nights out of the week. I am starting to think that they lied to me about the whole divorce thing. I am having flashbacks of when I was 12 and Dad was taking Sociology and Psychology classes. He probably based his thesis on the effects of divorce on adult children. I hope he gets his PhD soon, because I am starting to feel confused by this all.
After I talked to Dad, I called Mom to get her side of the story. She didn't mention the trip at all. I happen to know that she came home with considerably more money than she started with. I'm not dumb. Someone is lying to me.
She didn't talk about the trip to Vegas, but she did mention that they had gone to an auto show together. They came up with several clever names for new automobiles. I wish that my parents were in charge of naming cars. They weren't so good at naming kids (I have a hippie name, my sister has a hillbilly name), but seriously, the automotive industry has no idea what kind of a creative force my parents are. I would probably drive the Suburu Slut, but the Jeep Libido is good too. I wouldn't even test drive the Dodge Gigolo. Please, I am way classier than that.
"Mom," I said, "what kind of auto show was this? It sounds like an auto-erotica show."
"What's that?" Mom asked.
I couldn't tell her. It was worse than the time she asked me what 40s and blunts were.