I’m an American in Japan, and my boyfriend is Japanese. My parents decided to come visit my boyfriend and me for Christmas, and together we plan to go on a short trip. However, my boyfriend and his family don’t speak much English, while my parents don’t speak much Japanese, so my parents decided to study Japanese while my boyfriend studied a little English so they could meet in the middle.

Today, my mom called because she was excited to tell me all she has learned.

Mom: “彼氏は美味しいですか？” “Kareshi ha oishiidesuka?”

That translates to “Is your boyfriend delicious?”

When we laughed, she immediately fixed it and changed 美味しい/oishii (delicious) to 優しい/yasashi (friendly), but we were already all laughing so hard.

I can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world because both my boyfriend and my parents love me so much they’re willing to learn foreign languages (and incredibly difficult ones, at that) so that they can communicate with the other half of my life.

This story about the bed bug lady in the hardware store reminded me suddenly of my mom. I’ve written about my mom in this story. She’s the one who had me sleep on a floor when I went to visit, even though I’m a disabled adult. 

My mom returns home from a trip, complete with suitcases and her husband. They went to visit his ex-girlfriend from decades past.

Mom: “You won’t believe this, but [Ex-Girlfriend] has bed bugs in her spare room!”

Me: *Taking a step back* “How do you know?”

Mom: “Well, not everyone has symptoms, but apparently, I’m allergic. I had big welts everywhere. But neither of them knew since they aren’t allergic, I guess.”

Me: “So… um… Did you bring bed bugs home? If not, how did you ensure…?”

Mom: “Oh, don’t worry. We checked into a hotel to get away from the bugs. We bought new suitcases, and I took what clothes I couldn’t throw out to the laundromat.”

I’m unsure the laundromat would be enough, but I set that aside for the moment.

Me: “I’m surprised the hotel let you stay there with possible bed bugs.”

Mom: “Oh, we didn’t tell them. We figured it would be okay to tell them when we left.”

Me: “And what did they say?”

Mom: “I haven’t told them yet.”

Me: “They need to know! Mom!”

Mom: “Well, I figured they would find out before putting anyone new in there because I shoved the old suitcases under the bed.”

Me: “Call them! Right now!”

Mom: “But they will be mad at me.”

Me: “This is bigger than your feelings. Besides, I’m mad at you already. I’ll be more mad if you don’t call right now.”

Mom: “It’s probably too late—”

Me: “I’m so disappointed in you. You were disrespectful and negligent, and you decided to be a coward about that. How would you like it if you had a guest stay with bed bugs and not warn you, and then you and future guests all get bugs, and those friends blame you? Wouldn’t you want to know? Call. Them. Now.”

Mom: “You’re so mean.” *Dials the number*

I didn’t end up getting bed bugs as far as I know; this was a decade ago.

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My family members all live in different states. I live in Pennsylvania, my sister is in Kentucky, and my parents spend most of the year in Florida and come up to Pennsylvania in the summer. Most of our communication with my sister’s kids is over the phone.

My mom is having a very hard time bonding with my four-year-old niece. Since I’m currently my niece’s best friend and we spend hours each night talking on the phone or FaceTime, I decide to tell my mom what initially got [Niece] to warm up to me. (This is partly to get her to bond with my mom and also so I can get some of my evenings back.) 

Me: “Have you ever heard of Funko Pop?”

Mom: “Not really.”

Me: “They’re these stupid little collectible figurines for celebrities or characters from media. I had a few Disney ones just for particular favorite characters like Merida. One day, [Niece] wanted me to show her my apartment, and she saw it. She was really excited, so I got a few more, and now every time she calls, she wants to see my princesses.”

Mom: “And that’s why she started to want to call you?”

Me: “Yeah. I mean, no offense, but a boring adult with nothing that she’s interested in. Get a few, and she’ll like to see them.”

I decide to send my mom two “Encanto” figures, figuring it can be her starter pack, as [Niece] is obsessed with “Encanto”. My mom is beyond excited to try and bond with [Niece].

Tonight, I get my regular call from [Niece], and she asks to see my figures. 

Niece: “Pap showed me that he has princesses, too!”

Me: “Did Nana show you, too?”

Niece: “No!”

Interesting.

As soon as we hang up, I call my parents. 

Mom: “Hey, what’s up?”

Me: “Were you aware that [Niece] was already shown the Encanto figures?”

Mom: “That rat b*****d. He knew that was supposed to be my ticket in!”

She confronted my dad on the phone with me, and we thoroughly ganged up on him. I’m planning to send more Pops down with instructions to hide them so he can’t steal her thunder again as [Niece] already likes my dad.

CONTENT WARNING: Eating Disorder, Child Neglect
 

A friend of mine growing up had obscenely rich parents, a multi-million-dollar mansion, etc. He was an only child. When he was about twelve or thirteen, they used to leave him home alone for a night or a weekend while they went out to lavish galas. He was technically just old enough to be responsible for that amount of time, but he was immature in the way that teenage boys are. So, when they left him money to order a pizza (these parents never, ever cooked for themselves), he would keep the money to buy video games and just not eat.

Fast forward a few years. The loneliness and the lack of parental concern about his skipping meals led him to have a pretty serious eating disorder. Fortunately, they finally got him some good counseling and a nutrition coach, so he was getting healthy again by the time we graduated high school, but all of that would have been unnecessary if they had just been responsible parents in the first place.

Once his parents finally noticed something was wrong, part of his recovery plan involved getting a dog to keep him company. It was a tiny, fashionable dog that would look stylish in front of their mansion, but still, I think that was one of the best choices made by those questionable parents. The kid loved that dog to pieces.

CONTENT WARNING: Spider (Large!)
 

When I was in high school, I headed to bed one night, not bothering to turn on lights along the way. Fortunately, I did turn on my room light. A huge spider was sitting in the middle of my bed — at least six inches long. This is not normal here.

I quickly ran upstairs.

Me: “Dad! There’s a huge spider on my bed!”

Dad: *Laughs* “Huge, huh?”

Laughing some more, he grabbed a fly swatter. I tried to warn him, but he was too busy laughing at me to listen.

He walked into the room, and startled exclamations replaced the laughing as he hurriedly backed out.

Later that night we saw more, even bigger spiders outside. Dad took the BB gun instead of the fly swatter.

We still don’t know what they were; Dad said he had never seen anything like them, and I have never seen any again. It was a long time before I walked around the basement in the dark after that.