Stranded parents

My parents raised me to be a very independent child.

So you can only imagine how the past 24 hours have gone with them stranded in my house.

Due to the inclement weather that has made its way from Antarctica to Ohio, the month of January has been anything but awesome.

This morning, they were set to depart until I informed them that where they are from the county was under a Level 3 emergency and factories in Defiance and the surrounding areas were closed. Plus, the Ohio Turnpike set a “travel ban” for semis and other big-ass vehicles.

Long story short, they are stuck here until further notice.

As of now, they are set to depart tomorrow – but you see, over the years my dad has become, well anal is about the only word, about the weather. He does not like driving in sub-zero weather. He does not like driving in the snow. He does NOT like driving in the blowing/drifting snow. He isn’t a fan of driving in monsoons either. So basically, the weather needs to be sunny with 100 percent visibility for miles and miles around.

Yet he lives in Ohio.

And I was born in the Blizzard of 1978.

Go figure.

So today, in the many hours we have spent together, my dad has shown me at least five times how to break down boxes for recycling. A few hours ago, he sat in the chair next to me and tore apart a card board box until it looked like it had been shredded by a mouse. I even recorded him on my phone in case I forget the process.

But it has also been like having in-home nannies.

I have listened to them play 100 games of “Pick-up Sticks” and I have heard them argue at least that many times over the rules of the game and if the “black stick” is an actual stick of the GAME or if it’s to be used as a “helper” to get the other sticks.

Also, during a recent game of “Pick-up Sticks” came a lesson in religion when Grandma explained the importance of being kind.

It’s a win-win situation on that game!

I have listened to endless games of “Old Maid” with everyone getting confused as to who picks from whom and how the kids don’t like to get the “Old Maid” card.

I feel like I am living in the movie, “Ground Hog Day!”

There have been many discussions over how to cook the chicken for dinner. My mom had a great idea of tossing it in a pan and baking it, until she looked into my spice cupboard and didn’t like any of my spices. I then suggested cutting up peppers and onions and baking the chicken in the mixture and then having enchiladas. She didn’t like that idea either, but I pulled out my “I LIVE HERE” card and it’s currently in the oven, baking. It smells delish!

My husband has been at work all day. We are all envious of him right now.

Tomorrow the temperatures are supposed to dip well below the single digits and since my dad is afraid of being stranded on the highway, it looks like we get to relive today all over again tomorrow.

Being with them all day today, under the same roof makes me very thankful I do not have to permanently live with them all day, every day. I think by now we’d all have our own rooms in the loony bin.

I am glad I don’t need these nannies every day … I prefer to have my parents as GRANDPARENTS.

Advertisements

About Parenthood: The New Crazy Train

Parenthood is no easy task, and there is no reason to go at it alone. So, if you are feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, dump it off, grab a beverage and hop onboard Parenthood: The New Crazy Train -- where we are all permanent riders and new riders are welcomed daily. Follow me on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/ParenthoodthenewCrazyTrain Twitter @train_crazy *Photo credit Kristin Bauer*
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s