Parental Capers

*Draft*

My parents frustrate me enormously. The biggest issue is their decreased capacity for rationality as they get older. Sadly, this decline appears irrevocable. I'm sure this is a familiar story for children the world over.

But what a rich mine of comedy-gold this illogical behaviour brings! God bless them.

1. After a lifetime of upending most of the salt shaker's contents on every meal my father has heavily modified all aspects of his diet. And while this is a definite 'well-played sir' it has not been without controversy. There was the time we left the chicken shop without buying chicken - because they had run out of skinless chicken breasts. When I suggested to my father that we buy breasts with the skin on and simply remove these prior to cooking I was met with a withering, contemptuous stare. Apparently we needed the chickens whose breasts have never had skin covering them..After my sister and I recovered from our laughing fits dad was in no mood to purchase anything. We were lucky to get fish and chips on the way home.

2. And the time, well, it's every time actually, that we kids receive no information at all about things that are important. No Dad, I'm not exaggerating when I describe Mum's hospitalisation as an important issue. That required information to be shared among the family. I'm not asking for hourly updates via twitter, just a timely initial phone call.

This morning I received a voicemail from my father. I'd seen the incoming call from a blocked number and ignored it. Reviewing the message revealed the words that every child must prepare herself for but never wants to hear:

 "It's Dad, I'm calling from the hospital.."

My mother is old, and somewhat sickly, so this is a refrain I have heard a few times over the years. But the initial feeling of dread while you wait for him to continue is simply awful. You're suddenly aware that your father's next few words may be confirming the death of your mother. Time stands still for a second or so, but that wait thwacks you hard in the stomach and makes you grip your mind. The only comparable feeling I know is when you have lost control of an automobile and are waiting for the moment of impact.

So, it turns out she is alive, but his message is otherwise short on detail. I duly ring the hospital and, after the obligatory ten minute period on hold, ask for the nurse's station in the cardio unit. I am eventually transferred, re-transferred, placed on hold again and then finally connected with, lo and behold, my father. He proceeds in his inimitable manner to, somehow, give me even less information than before - my father has an economics degree and I'm betting he topped the class when studying the theory of diminishing returns.

He then thrusts the phone at my mother as she is shuffling her way from the toilet to her bed. She sounds dreadful, but it is of course great to simply converse with her as 45 seconds previous I was steeling myself for news of her death. After perhaps 10 seconds of conversation she declares that she doesn't want to 'tie the phone up for the others' and that she is hanging up. Which she does, and with some efficiency too.

I am now a detective on a search for information. I try my sister, but she doesn't pick up. Temporarily beaten, I review my position and decide against ringing the cardio ward again.