GRAH!!!!!!

This morning was one of those mornings that I am glad my Narsil is a blunt prop piece and not a fully sharpened sword capable of maiming someone. . . because if it was I might be heading for jail at the moment.

So my parents get home this morning at 5am, and are they quiet? Not even the slightest bit. Hell, they called me at 4:15 to tell me they would be home in 45 minutes. I think the conversation went a little like this:

*Ring* *Ring*

*Sleeping George wakes up, grumbles, and starts fumbling for his cell phone.*

George: "Wha?"

Dad: "Hey George, I know we told you we would call a couple hours before we got home, but we are in Champaign. Be home in an hour or so."

George: "Huh? I thought you were stopping at a motel."

Dad: "Eh, we changed our mind because we couldn't find a non-smoking room. Bye."

George: "Bye."

Somehow I managed to fall back asleep. I was an hour and a half into my night's slumber and I was shooting for my five hours. . . Didn't happen. Half an hour after I fell asleep I hear my parents come in the house and start making noise as they start playing with the dogs and ushering my brother to bed. Groggy and annoyed, I roll over and pretend I can't hear them for a while, but half an hour later I am up and there is no going back to sleep.

I stumble downstairs and greet them. Of course I am immediately roped into helping unpack things, but that is fine because I fully expected it. They are jabbering on about the things they did in Florida and how my brother was so well behaved. Then they start talking about how it is as warm here as it was there most of the week . . . well you get the picture.

This inanity continued for around half an hour before the topic turned to me. I thought I was ready for the "So why didn't you come to Florida" conversation. I thought I had come up with every possible question they could ask me about it, but I was wrong. First thing my dad says, "So, why did you stay up here all week? Wanted to visit your girlfriend over break? Don't want us to know about her? How is the love life going?"

*Snap*

I almost lost it. Of all the questions he could have asked. He could have asked what I did over the week. He could have commented on my haircut. He could have made some comment about the mountain of dishes in the kitchen (I was planning on them getting home this afternoon, not at 5am. I didn't have time to clean the place up). But did he ask about any of that? No, he jumped straight to the relationship questions.

Luckily I am good at improvising and I just made a joke out of the whole thing. I think I said something to the effect of "You caught me, Dad. I wanted my five girlfriends to come over so we could have a wild orgy on your bed while you guys were gone. Unfortunately they all brought friends and, well, even I can only do so much at a time. In fact, I think two of them are still waiting up in your room for me, so if you will excuse me" and walked away.

By now I have calmed down, and we have talked about other things like what I did over the week. My dad keeps trying to steer the conversation back towards my love life and I am sick of it. What is it with my parents? Do they intrinsically know when I don't want to have that type of a conversation? Because one of them always seems to bring it up when I don't want to talk about it. Last year when I got home for summer break it was the first thing my mom talked about, and anyone who knows about the end of the year knows that is the last thing I wanted to talk about.

Oh well, I guess that is what parents are for. They are here to annoy the crap out of us when we don't want to talk about something and bring up the awkward conversation topics around people we don't want them brought up around. C'est la vie. . . . or maybe just c'est mon vie. Either way, I should be used to it by now and I shouldn't let the little things get me down.

On the up side they brought up a whole lot of Florida produce, so I should be chowing down on delicious delicious oranges for a while. Mmmmm. Couple that with the fact that I am going to bring several chocolate truffles (and hopefully a pie or two) back with me and all is well in the world (well not all, but enough that I can ignore the rest).

Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go begin the Christmasing of my house. . . My dad is probably going to shoot for 11 trees throughout the house this year, but I am going to try to make sure it stays 10. I refuse to have a Christmas tree in my room at home. I will have one in my dorm room, but not at home!