Raised by Crazys

"Over the Top" is how most people would describe my parents.
My mom yells a lot! She says things as if no one else can hear her because she really doesn't care what anyone else thinks about her. It's remarkable. This afternoon as we're trying to figure out what's what on Broadway, this comedian-guy says to me, "hey, is that your mom, she's intense?!" That's a typical reaction to her wild antics. Everyone says and I quote, "there's just no one quite like your mom." Oh yes, she is an original. I try my best to be soft-spoken, but my mom brings out the screamer in me on contact.

Tonight, as we're walking away from a wonderful meal at one of my favorite restaurants, my dad turns to me and says, "hey... check it out, I got you a house gift" and then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a miniature pumpkin. He stole it from the Joshua Tree restaurant. My dad is 67 years old and clearly doesn't give a fuck anymore.

I think this explains a lot about me. As agonizing as it can be sometimes to be around the Tasmanian Devil and the Goofy Politician, its also invigorating to be around my parents who truly don't care. These crazys live in world of their own making.