My parents and brother are visiting me for a few days, and I’m reminded again how much my parents baffle me.  They’ve already been to Tim Horton’s more than once– standard, they’ve complained about walking to and from sights, then gone for walks just for leisure, and immediately upon arriving at my apartment, my dad poured himself a glass of milk and ate a handful of dry-roasted peanuts– just like I predicted he would.

The odd thing this time, is that they drove out here.  They had a detailed itinerary for the trip out– Lincoln museum in Springfield; visiting friends in Ohio; Gettysburg; Chocolate in Hershey, PA; Baseball Hall of Fame, Ben & Jerry’s factory– and then when they got here– nothing.  No real plans were made except I guess we’re going to Maine on Sunday. I don’t know what we will do once we get there, but I suspect the real reason for the trip is because my father has never been, and this will be his 48th state.  What I said before about him having no interest in Alaska or Hawaii seems to have been right on, but maybe he’ll start planning a trip once Maine is officially checked off.

Today, I am at work, and they are in Providence doing who knows what, probably going to Tim Horton’s and going for walks.  They came to Newport yesterday and I showed them around the library where I work since it’s beautiful and historically significant– they drifted off and read the paper.  I plan on taking them to Waterfire tonight cause it’s kind of pretty, and old people seem to love it, but I suspect they’ll complain about the walk.

This is all reminding me of a conversation I recently had with a co-worker at my other job.  I’ve complained, at length, about the lack of good Mexican food in this part of the country.  Thankfully, there is a Chipotle not too far away, so I can get a decent fix when I need it.  Recently, I arranged for this Chipotle to donate burritos for one of the teen events at the library.  They gave us a ton of food, and were incredibly nice and easy to work with.  Unfortunately, the teens didn’t really like the burritos because they had never had anything like them before, and found them strange and slightly scary.  I was a little bothered by this, but happy because there were lots of leftovers for the staff to take home.

I hauled ass back to the breakroom and sequestered three of them for myself immediately, planning on taking more, once fewer people were watching.  A few of my co-workers were baffled as to this bounty because they had never heard of Chipotle before (the one I got these burritos at was only 10 minutes away), and didn’t seem to understand burritos.  Who cares, more for me.

As I was leaving that night, I walked out to my car with a different co-worker, and asked her if she had gotten a burrito.

“I don’t really like burritos.” She told me. There was a slightly awkward silence, and she followed up with, “I like Del’s.”

This confused me because we had been talking about burritos, and Del’s is a soft-frozen lemonade drink which couldn’t actually be less like a burrito, but good for her.  Then there was silence until we reached our cars.

So I’m not sure what the story has to do with my parents, but I feel like it sums it up somehow.  The thing that most baffles me is that I feel like they’re doing all of this adventuring when my back is turned, then when I make myself available, they crap out.  It’s like imagining that your toys get up in the middle of the night and play without you.  I’m glad I didn’t realy take any time off work because I guess they have more fun without me trying to shepherd then around.  Thankfully, I’ve never been to Maine (and I stressed that bit of information), so I can just give them their head and follow; but I feel like I should bring a guidebook or something just in case.

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