"Open Arms" by Journey.
Yes... I know... I should be shot for not knowing that one... but see... once again... I was a damn baby when that song was popular.
Shoot, I wasn't even born when that bad boy came out.
I only knew the Mariah Carey version... and that's because some girl sang it in some talent show when I was... maybe a fifth grader... maybe a sixth grader.
What can I say? My folks are Mexican.
Ask me anything about Los Bukis, Vicente Fernandez (one of my all-time favorites because not only does he rock a stage, but as a person, he's pretty rad. Chente's a fucking MANNNNN. Ok, sorry for that tangent), Jose Jose, Camilo Sesto, Raphael, or any other popular 80's Spanish artist and I'll answer you before you even finish the question.
I'm enjoying this.
In other news: Dad really cracked me up today.
I'm known to exaggerate... just a little... sometimes... but no one's better at that than my mom.
That trait really bugs Dad.
Mom and Dad were sitting in the kitchen, having a nice little conversation when Dad called Little Sister and me over.
Dad: How many hard-boiled eggs did you guys collect that one Easter you guys went to the park? (this was back in like... '92... the only time we ever did anything that... WASP)
Me: Umm...
Little Sister: It was like...
Me: You were a baby, what do you know?
Mom: It was like 200 eggs wasn't it?
Dad: Quiet... you weren't supposed to do that. Now they won't guess correctly.
Me: It was like... I don't know... three basketful's.... just a lot... a huge waste.
Dad: And how many of those eggs did your brother eat?
Little Sister: Like 20...
Dad: That sounds more realistic than the number your Mom gave me...
Me: It was like... a lot. (I talk like a dumb shit... I just noticed that)
Mom: No... it was like 70!
Dad: Your Mom's trying to convince me you guys gathered 200 hard-boiled eggs and that your brother ate 70 of them in one sitting.
Little Sister: Ahahahaha! No!!! That's impossible! 70? Ha!
Mom: No! It was like 70... he ate so many I thought he was going to die on me. Don't you remember how sick he got?
Me: Well... I do remember all he did that day was pop hard-boiled eggs in his mouth... like pills. Even when we were hunting eggs at my uncles house... he was still getting the hard-boiled eggs there.
Mom: Yeah... the only difference there was that *Mooney's Dad* gave OlderBrother salt. So OlderBrother started eating the eggs with salt.
We couldn't get Daddy and Mom to agree... so Dad whipped out his cell phone and called OlderBrother in Indiana.
When my bro got the call, he was scared... being that it was almost 10 PM and the first thing Dad said to him was "Me and your Mom have a serious problem..."
Bro's immediate response is always: it's the fucking IRS, isn't it?!
??? No... moron.
Dad followed the greeting by asking him how many eggs he ate that one Easter he got really sick.
Bro: It was like... 40.
Dad: 40?!? How did you do that?! You were 7!
(brother's laughing hysterically)
Bro: I don't know... I almost died... that's for sure... and I fucking hate eggs now...
Dad: Thanks, son, now go back to studying.
(click)
We had to sit at the kitchen table for a good two minutes before any of us stood up.
I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one there almost pissing my pants from laughing so hard.
What kind of shit is that?
"Me and your Mom are having a serious problem here..."
I would have thought: "Don't tell me you're getting divorced!!!"
I wish I were as... tenacious as Daddy. He doesn't let shit go... and he goes all out when it comes to proving a point (He'd be a helluva reporter... move over George Knapp).
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