My Parents

Dear Jade,

Sometimes I think it’s hard for my friends to get to know my parents because of the awkward language barrier, which is a shame because they are very entertaining people. The fact that they manage to live under the same roof never ceases to amaze me.

My mom always needs to know where I’m going, who I’m with, and what I’m doing.

My dad once forgot how old I was when he was filling out a medical information form.

My mom cooks every night.

If left to his own devices, my dad’s diet would consist entirely of instant noodle and beer.

My mom can remember exactly where I put my red mitts two weeks ago.

My dad sometimes forgets to bring his wallet to the grocery store and doesn’t realize it until we have to pay.

My mom is often the most elegantly dressed person in the room.

My dad wore socks and sandals to my graduation.

If I spend two hours on a trigonometric identity, my dad can solve it in two minutes and then succinctly explain to me how he did it.

If I spend two hours trying to solve a trigonometric identity, my mom tells me that I need to do more practice problems and that she used to be great at identities because she practiced so much and that if I practiced as much as she did I could solve the identity too.

As a child, my mom was probably the teacher’s pet.

As a child, my dad was probably the awkward nerd who dug around in the dirt looking for worms at recess time.

My mom must constantly express her feelings on every subject, all the time.

I’ve never seen my dad truly sad.

My mom is afraid of skiing.

My dad is really bad at skiing but still loves it, and sometimes he’ll go down a hill 10 times and fall at the exact same spot every time.

My mom knows when all my exams are.

My dad doesn’t know what program I’m in.

My mom will try something, fail, and give up.

My dad will try something, fail, try it again, fail again... ad infinitum.

Like a lot of teenagers, I used to think that I had nothing in common with my parents. But nowadays when I look at my parents’ personalities and then look at my own, I think, “Oh. That makes sense.”

Love, 

Cindy