Conversations With THE MOTHER...and THE FATHER

Since I live in one state, my parents and younger brother in another, and my older brother in yet another, it's not often that all of us are in the same place at the same time. So, while most of my conversations with THE MOTHER take place via phone or Skype, THIS one, in which THE FATHER happens to have a starring role, happened during a recent sojourn up to the Mitten.

Here we go. Buckle up, bitches (don't say I didn't warn ya!)

ME: Where are you two going? *looks at THE MOTHER and THE FATHER curiously*

THE MOTHER: We're going with your cousin. She should be here in a little bit. *cell phone buzzes and she reads text* She says she'll be here in twelve minutes.

ME: Twelve?  Tell her we're locking the door in eleven.

THE FATHER: It'll take your mother longer than that to text the message. If you want to f*** with her, you do it.

The MOTHER hands me the phone, shaking her head. I quickly tap out a text and hand the phone off to my dad. The phone buzzes almost immediately in response.

THE FATHER: *frowns at display* Lame-O?  She just called me a lame-o!

THE MOTHER: What?  Let me see that. *takes phone from THE FATHER*  Lame-O?  LMAO?  Huh, well, we can all tell she went to a public school.  She spelled Lame-O wrong.

ME: *laughs*

THE FATHER:  Now, who's the lame-o? Even I know how to spell lame-o.  What a lame-o she is.

ME: *still laughing; can't catch my breath*

THE FATHER: What a Lame-O

THE MOTHER: Yeah, Lame-O.  Wait till she gets here.

ME:  *am about to fall off the couch, laughing so hard*

THE MOTHER: What is so funny about her calling us a Lame-O?

ME: That doesn't mean Lame-O. *still laughing* L *snort* M *gasp* A *laugh-snort* O *laugh* ... Laughing. My. Ass. Off.

THE MOTHER and THE FATHER, in unison: Oh.

THE MOTHER: Well, I think Lame-O was funnier.