Karen was complaining that my blog was getting boring with the massive lines of text and no pictures so THERE. There you have my parents when they were younger. A lot of people say that I look a lot like him and I suppose I do see the resemblance. I happen to share half of my genes with the guy so I'm not surprised.
My parents are right now abusing the line of friendship with some poor man. This man waited in his parked car outside our house for an hour because my mom was singing karaoke in the basement and couldn't hear him knock on the door. My parents always do this. There was a Seinfield episode that talked about how you really had to be close friends with someone in order to ask them to help you move your furniture from an old place to a new. My parents would ask someone they just shook hands with to help them build Rome. Not only do they ask people they barely know to help them with yard work or house repairs, but they ask them to do it for consecutive hours for consecutive days.
It's funny when I first see the "friends" come and my parents cunningly offer them beer and food. They merrily eat and talk and then my parents ask if they can help with this or that. The friend eagerly agrees and begins the help. The help continues into the night when the sun gives out and my parents have to turn on outdoor lights for the friend to see their own hands. The next day they will ask the friend to come over again to help out, but oddly enough my parents themselves will not be home and I or my brother or sister will have to entertain the friend until they remember about him or her. Similar to the poor man in the car today.
My parents go through these, what my sister and I call, helpers about once a month. They are often carpenters or repairmen that my dad knows because he's their doctor. After a few days of grueling work we never see them again. They must hide, shaking in some corner, recooperating from all the work they did.
