I Ain’t No Fortunate Son, Or I’m My Parents Would Trade Me For A Sandwich

I’m pretty sure that when people ask my parents about their kids, their response is the following: “Oh, I have two children. A daughter who lives in North Florida and a son who’s in law school.”

Initially, this seems like a fairly innocuous statement until you realize that my parents actually have two daughters.  And I no longer live in the Sunshine State.

Mom and Paps have essentially adopted one of my best friends and little by little, are trying to eke me out of the picture.

I can’t really blame them, though. Biffle’s in law school, is unfailingly polite and knows how to build things with his hands whereas I am mouthy and asked Paps if he was talking about cocaine when he sent me a text message asking about the snowstorm.

I had the following Skype conversation with my parents a little while ago and I think it does an excellent job in illustrating this point:

Paps: Have you talked to Biffle* lately?
Jaime: Not lately lately….
Paps: He tried to call you.
Jaime: Yeah, he’ll do that…
Paps: Jemmy, you should answer the phone when he calls.
Jaime: I don’t answer when anyone calls.
Paps: Well, Biffle tried to call you!
Jaime: I know. We’ve established that!
Paps: Well, have you called him back?
Jaime: What? What? I can’t…I can’t talk to you anymore. Let me talk to my mom.
(Mom appears on screen)
Jaime: Hey Mom. Paps is making me nuts. How are you?
Mom: Hi Jemmy. Biffle was trying to call you.
Jaime: What in the goddamn hell? Am I in Crazy World? I know! Paps just told me.
Mom: Did you call him back?
(At this point, I smash my face into my hands)
Jaime (muffled): No.
Mom: Well, you need to call him.
Jaime (still muffled): I will.

(*My parents don’t actually call him Biffle. That’s my absurd name for him. Mom and Paps call him by his given name, but for the purposes of the blog — he’s Biffle)

Adoptive parents who are all about feeding him homemade Indian food and a personal telephone goon squad? He’s getting a good deal.

My parents should interrogate terrorists.

An hour of circular questioning like this and we’d definitely find out where Bin Laden is hiding.
Hell, give them a full day and we’d find out who killed JFK, where Jimmy Hoffa’s body was dumped and why people keep plunking down hard-earned cash to see those crappy Movie movies.

3 thoughts on “I Ain’t No Fortunate Son, Or I’m My Parents Would Trade Me For A Sandwich

    • You might have a point. Paps might stop insisting that I’m adopted if I started watching more test matches.

      And Biffle probably does like cricket. Dude’s essentially the Golden Child.

  1. Pingback: Texting With Paps Or, Cake, Booze and Blasphemy « Too Sweet For Rock & Roll

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