Meet the parents!

Today's a special day, because it's the day you're going to meet my parents. They're pretty great. First, my dad (both parents will remain unnamed). He is a retired Air Force major, and we currently share the same occupation: nothing. He is much more detail-oriented and thrifty than I am. Here's a picture of him, on the right (the student I used to mentor is on the left):





OK, that's actually Tom Osborne, best football coach ever. He's pretty good too. Look at how excited he is! Here's a real picture of my dad (it's been a few years; check the shades on the guy on the left! He was part of the band Winger once upon a time.) This was back when the Chicago Bulls were good, the first time Jordan played for them.

He loves flying, Canadian bacon on his pizza, and a well-fitting inexpensive suit (of which he has sixty or more). Sometimes people say we look alike!

Here's my mom: she is a very happy speech language pathologist. She enjoys gardening, helping children, and Christmas sweaters, all year round. She plans to write a children's book someday and has promised to employ me as an editor if I have yet to find gainful employment. At some point in the early decade, she discovered Romaine lettuce, and will no longer eat iceberg (is iceberg even capitalized? Unclassy lettuce!) Here she is, I believe at the Berkshire-Hathaway meeting this year in Borsheim's.

They are really, really, really excited about the prospect of me dating someone, getting engaged, getting married, and having kids (I think the last two could be transposed in their wishes). I believe that right now, at this moment, they are attempting to sell me for the highest dowry (or lowest dower, for that matter) to the woman that meets the following descriptions: Over 20, under 31, no felonies, all teefas remaining, minimal visible tattoo, and some employment prospects.

We also have a cat, and mom and dad widely refer to me as the cat's "brother" indicating that I and my sister are on equal footing with the cat as far as love, money, and last will and testament go. I am pretty sure they assure the cat that it's their favorite child in my absence, kind of like Mini-Me in Austin Powers:International man of Mystery.

So you have the quick intro to the parental unit. Anyway, I must go as I am iron-cheffing right now (I don't cook; I Iron Chef). On the menu: Tri-color rotini with homemade garlic parmesan tomato basil sauce, bruschetta with fresh buffalo mozzarella and Roma tomato, Caesar salad with vinaigrette and shredded mozarrella, a nice imported Chianti, and probably chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Retirement, hey!