>I’ve noticed something about my family. We all think we’re right. We also all feel the need to express to others just how right we are. As well as that, when something seems impractical and ludicrous to us, we take it upon ourselves to make a point out of it.
It’s just how we are.
No one sums up my family as well as my Father Dear.
The other night Husby, Mother Dear and I were sitting around my parent’s living room as Father Dear recounted his earlier trip to the main grocery store in town.
This trip involved a stop at the deli to pick up his salami of choice. While scanning the different meats behind the glass counter, Father Dear noticed that the different brands of turkey ranged in the $9 to $10 dollar a pound price range. All except for one. This particular one happened to be only $3.
So father dear asked the (poor unfortunate) deli worker why it was so much cheaper. He in fact asked “What’s wrong with it?”
The employee offered Father Dear a sample, which he declined while pointing out to said unfortunate deli man that the cheaper turkey actually happened to be processed turkey meats, not actual turkey breast.
I imagine that Father Dear had the usual smug humor that also runs in my family. It tends to show itself while we’re in the thickness of getting our point across. I’m fairly certain that the self satisfaction we tend to exude may in fact be quite annoying to others.
Again, blame the genes.
After his story, Father Dear sat on the couch basking in the fact that he was clever enough to see through the grocery store’s scams.
Mother Dear, upon hearing his statements, declared that “This is why young people hate old people.”
[insert bursts of chuckles and giggles from Husby and I]
To which Father Dear retaliated with “I was nice. I ordered my usual salami, and then I asked the guy what kind of cheese he suggested. He showed me a nice sharp cheddar. I even bought a pound of it. I made him feel good.”
At this point, the conversation changed directions and we had pretty much forgotten all about it.
That was until Father and Mother Dear went to get a snack.
Father Dear pulled out his fancy cheese, gave some to Mother Dear, and took a bite.
“Mmm. It’s good.” He said.
“It’s regular American cheese.” Said Mother Dear. (MD)
“Hmm. Yeah it is.” Said Father Dear. (FD)
“It’s processed.” -MD
“Yeah. Yeah it is.” – FD
“You paid nine dollars a pound for processed cheese.” –MD
[insert humongous bursts of laughter from Mother Dear and I]
“That deli guy is AWESOME. He officially rocks.” –Persnickety
[insert another round of giggles]
As the realization of what had actually taken place at the deli counter washed over my Father Dear’s face, he held the refrigerator door in one hand, cheese in the other, and cried out “I’ve been had!!!”
Pretty sure that’s in the genes too.