Thursday, November 22, 2007

My parents called to say Happy Thanksgiving. They went out to eat at the Grande Finale. We ate there as a family almost 6 years ago. They then spent the next 5 minutes trying to remember what everyone ordered.* My dad and Lindsay had salmon. I had turkey. My mom had the sirloin. I remember I had this amazing warm pecan pie that came out in a casserole dish with ice cream. It was giant.

They asked how I was feeling. My cough is getting better, though I still haven't slept through the night. They reminisced about a time when I was a kid and had a cough for a while. They finally took me to the doctor after a couple of weeks b/c they were annoyed with my non-stop hacking. Turned out I had pneumonia. They felt like horrible parents. I reminded my dad of the time I hurt my knee. He said I was fine and wrapped it in the Magic Ace Bandage and sent me off to camp. A few days later the nurse called for my mom to pick me up b/c I kept falling and was developing a fever. Turned out I broke my patella. That was the one time the Magic Ace Bandage didn't work.

*They do stuff like that a lot. Spend big chunks of a conversation trying to remember who said what to whom or what someone was wearing or what the temperature was on a certain day. It's stuff that is totally irrelevant to the conversation, but is uber important for them to remember. Luckily for them, it's charming.


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