In the Land of Men

I haven't lived anywhere near Mama Lai and Papa Lai for the past 14 years.  In passing, I mentioned to Mama Lai that one of my friends in San Francisco suggested I move to the Bay Area, which would bring me closer than I have ever been to them.  Mama Lai thought about it and that she thought it was a great idea.  I teased Mama Lai:

"I didn't realize you missed me so much and want me to move closer."

Mama Lai said:

"Not really.  But there's more men in San Francisco.  That can only be a good thing for you."

The Gift of Song

I like to sing along to the radio especially when I drive.  After one such session with Mama Lai in the car, I lamented that Mama Lai did not bless me with the gift of song.  Mama Lai remembered:

"When you were five or six and started to go to church, they would lead everyone in song.  You didn't know how to sing, but you would get so into the music that you would just shout the words at the top of your voice.  And the Sunday school teachers didn't know what to do.  You weren't singing, but you did it with such enthusiasm."

And then she paused and laughed at me:

"And some things always stay the same." 

Danger to Society

I admit that I was a handful as an adolescent and went through a miserable period filled with angst, anxiety and insolence.  I often apologize to Mama Lai and Papa Lai for my poor behavior.  Once, Mama Lai said:

"There was a time I thought the only way that you should be allowed outside our house was inside a locked tower in a castle.  Thank goodness you matured and it didn't' come to that."

Taken Seriously

After I had lasik surgery and finally could stop wearing contacts and glasses, Mama Lai indicated to me that out of all my Facebook profile pictures, she liked the one of me wearing glasses the most:

"I just don't think anyone can take you seriously without glasses on.  With glasses, you look like you think about things.  Someone who has important thoughts.  Maybe people would mistake you for being a professor."

I joked that now that I have near perfect vision, I'll never be taken seriously again.  Mama Lai wouldn't have it:

"I found your old frames and I'm going to send them to you and you're going to find someone to put in fake lenses.  You can't go through life always being silly." 

Revenge by Grandchildren

It's no secret that Papa Lai wants grandchildren, but Mama Lai always staunchly denies that she pressures me or any of her ducklings to have kids:

"You guys are adults.  You make your own decisions.  If I want you to have kids, it's only because I want revenge for everything that you put me through."

The Fonz

When I was in elementary school, I watched a lot of television.  One of my favorite shows was "Happy Days" and I developed a crush on Henry Wrinkler's character "The Fonz".  One night, I dreamt that The Fonz whisked me away on his ultra-cool motorcycle and gave me a peck on my lips at sunset.  Wracked with Christian guilt, I ran to Mama Lai's room in tears.

Mama Lai, groggy from sleep, listened to my teary confession and laughed:

"You woke me up for this?  Go back to sleep.  He's too old for you."

Like Dating, Like Painting

Mama Lai believes I obsess over the wrong things when it comes to boys:

"You young people romanticize finding someone to settle down with.  Finding your match is like looking at a painting. Fine, you can fuss about the color, subject of the painting.  Sure, that side of the painting is always beautiful and there will be many angles you can see that painting.  But every painting has an ugly backside."