i got a somehow normalish voice mail from my mom yesterday evening. a funny story to tell, she said. call me after class. topics of conversation have been more rare than phone calls of late, so i bit. the funny story turned out to be that she found a box of my high school paraphanalia in the attic (which is neither funny nor odd, since i have refused for years to haul that crap to dc and she refuses to throw it out).
but then i realized why she had really called. my dad had emailed me for my opinion on a lawsuit they are contemplating (my novice advice was, of course, i don't know. if you don't trust your lawyer, go talk to another one). basically, my mom wants to sue and my dad doesn't. she had called, i realized, not an hour after i emailed my dad back to find out what i had told him. because somehow that's easier than just asking him. (sadly, i think it is.)
how is it that they can still manage to put me in the middle of things when i am 600 miles away and we barely talk? it's not that i minded repeating myself, nor giving the advice in the first place. i was happy she called. but i've forgotten what it's like to get a phone call just because they want to talk to me.
i said i was going to keep my crazy family out of this blog, but i lied.