Parental Unit Visitation

My folks came up to visit yesterday--only one day, on a tour around Ontario--Niagara-on-the-Lake, Guelph (Huh? Guelph? It was a convenient stopping point), Toronto, Muskoka, and Rochester, NY. Surprisingly, the experience was a lot nicer and less aggravating than I expected.

Coming into my apartment, they complimented me on housekeeping skills. This was a bit surprising--I keep my place basically neat, but don't go too nuts on cleaning. Also, the kitchen and bath fill me with despair--many of the finishes look dirty, no matter how much cleaning goes into them (e.g., the peeling painted bathtub. Painted? Huh?). I guess that in comparison to my sister, my housekeeping is immaculate. For instance, the amount of hair on her bathroom floor bothers me sufficiently that I dispose of it with toilet paper when I visit. When single guys start getting skeeved out by your bathroom, you know you have a problem. Yeah, she really needs a Roomba.

We had lunch at my favorite local bakery, which was an exasperating 'yes, my folks are nuts' moment. I told them the choices (chicken pesto, eggplant feta, or portabello pizza; or ham, tuna, or turkey melt sandwiches). This apparently saturated their decision-making capabilities, and they told me to decide. I ordered a sandwich for myself, and two varieties of pizza for them, so they could split and sample them.

After struggling to split the pieces for a few minutes ("Um, mom, they're already cut... you don't need to slice it..."), mom gave dad a piece of chicken pizza. Dad picked it up, then noticed it had green peppers on it; he dislikes them enough that he gave it back. The eggplant pizza went back to his plate. Then mom picked off the green peppers for him. Another pizza swap. As dad ate it, he decided it was too spicy for him (he finds a hotness level that I can't even detect inedible). Swapped back again. I ended up taking home the remainder of the chicken pizza.

This was followed by a tour of campus (photo in front of test house above). We had dinner at Hannah's--a very nice restaurant a short walk away. Their lamb sirloin with shiitake mushrooms and fingerling potatoes--very tasty.

Dinner conversations were less forced than I had expected--maybe the wine helped. I found some surprising common ground to discuss with dad--shipping containers. He was in the flavor and fragrance import/export business, so his career covered the rise of shipping containers to their dominant position in the industry. We ended up talking about the ins and outs of sending product--the problem that he ran into was small volume/high value cargos that needed freezing or refrigeration--too small to fill a container economically, but a break-bulk refrigerated section was no longer available. So as is typical with guy interaction, talking about 'stuff' is a safe way to communicate.

Mom was surprisingly frank and straightforward about efforts to set me up with daughers of her Japanese friends. She told me about one prospect, and the fact that she didn't think it was a good match. I tried to brush things off in a noncommittal manner. I also asked whether mom was trying to do the same for my sister. She sighed, and replied that some flexibility is required for a relationship to function, and she doesn't think T. really has that ability.

Incidentally, I found out that my sister pays my folks $100 month for the food that mom brings to her each week--she doesn't cook for herself; she relies on these care packages from home for dinner. Even though it makes it more equitable, for some reason, it makes it feel a bit more pathetic.

On another tangent, I talked a fair amount about the weddings I have been to recently, and the children of various friends. I wonder if it was partly a subliminal desire to taunt my parents--"This is what other people's kids do--they date, live together, get married, have kids, things like that. I'm friends with lots of those people. So far, I haven't managed to do any of that. Just want to remind you of that."