No no no, it wasn’t a hurricane. It was just my mom and dad who came to town this last week. Well, blew through town is more appropriate, on their annual mecca from Connecticut to Florida. Last year, I detailed their stay here in D.C., which you can find here. This visit, while significantly shorter than the 48 hour disasters of past, provided me about the same amount of fodder.
Time elapsed from the moment they stepped into my condo to the time the first fighting words were spat? 1 hour, 14 minutes. Better than usual. I don’t think that broke any records. Phew.
When they got to my neighborhood they called from the street. I could hear my dad in the background saying something. I said, “Who is he talking to?” My mom said, “Oh, he’s just telling the cop that we are unloading and that’s why we are in the loading zone.” I said, “HA! They don’t give a fuck. You could shoot Dad dead right now and they wouldn’t care.” My parents are used to New York City cops who give you a ticket for hesitating in front of a building. When they pick my brother up at his apartment they slow to 15 mph a la Little Miss Sunshine, and my brother has to run and jump in, otherwise they get a ticket for “standing.”
Anyway, my mom and I had a conversation on the phone in December which went like this:
Mom: When are you going to come up here and go through all your childhood memorabilia?
Velvet: I’m not.
Well, she really showed me. After I buzzed them in, I went to my front door to let the dogs in the hall to greet them and went back to drying my hair. I waited. And waited. And waited. They never came upstairs.Twenty minutes passed. I opened the door, fearful they were stuck in my ghetto ass elevator and I saw my neighbor out there. Standing there in my robe, I was a bit caught off guard. I said, “Oh, sorry, thought you might be my parents.” She said, “They are downstairs unloading boxes. They brought you a lot of stuff!”
Oh no. OH NO! FUCK! Whatever is in those boxes will NOT fit in la Casa de Velvet! I’m at the point where I may have to throw out my tampons so I have room for Sammy and Thora’s heartworm pills! Space is not something I just have around that I can find room for more crap.
I went downstairs and my mom was guarding seven, yes, SEVEN boxes in the lobby. My dad was circling looking for parking. I called him. He was lost. I tried to navigate him back but I heard sirens through the phone. He threw the phone on the seat but never hung up. I heard the cop pull him over (who knew they did this in D.C.?) and say he ran a stop sign, or a stop light or something. My dad said he was totally lost. She asked where he was going. He told her. And she told him how to find me. Then she followed him and I got in the car with him and we parked. He said, “Hey, that’s the cop who pulled me over going to talk to her friends. I thought she was going to give me a ticket.” I was laughing so hard I couldn’t contain myself. I said, “Dad, they don’t give anyone a ticket here. She’s trying to see if they have any donuts. She doesn’t care about you and your law-breaking.”
We go inside. Dad started feeding Sammy and Thora various treats. I started opening the boxes. Um. Oh boy. Let’s say that there were some old love letters in there from my high school boyfriend as well as a saucy picture of me in some whorish Halloween get-up that I sent him when I was in college. Fucking great. I’m sure my parents saw that. Groan.
A journey through my childhood, if you will:
A jar of my baby teeth. Aww. Who knew the next set of teeth to come through there would be home to the biggest mouth in all of D.C.
I’m not sure what this is, or was supposed to be, but I made it in Kindergarten. 1978 baby!! Anyway, it seems like a wood cylinder with a face painted on it, and some cotton on top and at the beard. I guess it is the wooden Santa? No clue. I’m still an artist though, bitches.
To the untrained eye, this is a papermache baby I made in art class when I was in 4th or 5th grade. The baby is supposed to be holding a bottle. But I dare you to look closer. It seems the baby is holding an erect penis. I remember my friend Amy bit off the top of a yellow crayon so we could make it the “nipple” of the bottle, but yeah, it just looks like a dick.
Look. It was not only a book on the Middle Ages, but my FIRST – implying that there was going to be a much sought after follow up. I’m afraid I have failed my readers. I’m very sorry about that.
Finally. I got to dig into the other bag that was a mix of gifts not collected at Christmas because I boycotted going home. The bag contains the usual take of gifts, except for one item I pulled out of an envelope. It was this:
Yes. Blue Thong Undies that say “OH” just above the ass crack. Note I said “the” ass crack, and not “my” ass crack, because I will NOT be wearing these. I know, I know, you want to know why my parents got me thong underwear. They didn’t. In the last Velvet Family post, I explained how the parents and brothers can’t resist something that is “free.” Where it says “take one” they go back and take definitely more than one. And they send whatever loot they have collected around to the rest of us. My family doesn’t understand that these things are free because NO ONE ELSE wants them. My brother is perhaps the worst, he cannot resist this lure. He has sent me the “CVS” Commemorative (read: free) Christmas ornament every year since 1997. I keep throwing them away but they keep coming back. Anyway, the origin of the thong undies is unknown, but from some offer online that he answered.
I can only hope that is ALL he answered. I really don’t want to have a free Nuva Ring arrive tomorrow and coupons for a free pap smear next week at some doctor whose license was probably revoked. Ugh.
Merry Fucking Christmas. See why I didn’t go home?
In final parental love, the best and most consistent of all their gifts is the rotting food they left behind. After they were gone I smelled the milk they left. Curdled. Made me yack.
hahaha.. when the page loaded, the first thing i saw was the jar of teeth; i had no idea what they were but i thought: ‘this is going to be good’..
what are you going to do with all that stuff? the papermache baby is kinda scary.. i know, i know you were only 10 or 11!! 🙂
No way! I I especially loved the Oh! thongs…Good luck! It’s so much fun when your parents decide your schedule for dealing with the past.
Awesome. I dread having to clean out my parent’s house when they kick it. I’ll see your jar of baby teeth and raise you several locks of hair and my first “training” bra.
I’m so glad someone else has parents who keep teeth! They need help. My parents had/have my teeth somewhere in a little yellow envelope. Something about making a necklace someday. Ewww. Considering I had 11 pulled at one time and then 4 wisdoms several years later, we could probably make a set of matching earrings. Double Ewww. But hey, you got Christmas in January! Who doesn’t like that? Even WITH the Oh! Thong.
My mother will do this to me some day. The question is, when?
The teeth are killer though. A few weeks ago my mother accidentally threw away my younger brother’s tooth. She fished it back out of the garbage because she felt like a bad mother.
I especially like that it’s your first book ON the middle ages. The author is not important; the subject is not important; but don’t you dare forget that ON.
Just you wait, it gets better when they are in their 80’s.
Family, can’t live with them and you can’t shoot them. Writing about them is so therapeutic.
Glad the visit went reasonably well.
I would love to read the book. I believe the that book deserves its own post.
I also miss papier mache. It is a wonderful grade school art form.
Your parents brought you rotten milk? Do they also hide food around the house?
I had a roommate who’s mom was very caring, but cheap as hell (and she was fine financially) so when she saw that her leftovers had been in Her fridge too long, rather than throw them out and waste them, she’d bring them over to our house. Old hamburger helper type stuff. YUCK.
My mother is constantly asking when I’m going to come to her place and go through my stuff and take it back to my house. Avoid, avoid, avoid… until it gets hauled to my doorstep, I guess. So afraid now!
But the thong is such a lovely shade of blue! Oh so loverly.
Also, the papermache baby…totes scary. That there is the stuff of which horror films are made (well, perhaps adult horror films)
Yes, I too am still waiting for Vols. II – XXV on The Middle Ages.
At first, I misread the thong as an “AH” thong. Honestly, that’s a better word anyway. “Ah” is a sound of contentment and satisfaction. “Oh” has more of a surprised connotation, and especially given the revealing nature of a thong, I’m thinking “Oh, why are you putting that there!?!?? Don’t make that mistake again asshole!”
Stick with Ah.
What a laugh Velvet! Love the panties. I recently went through boxes of the same crap. I must have been an incredible nerd as a child considering what I found. Though there were panties in my boxes too…(Someone should really tell young boys not to collect these things.
I also found an ashtry I made for my mother that is so scary, it could possibly result in a restraining order if I sent it to one specific person. I am almost tempted to do so.
I think the answer is obvious. You need to have a “Win Velvet’s Crap!” contest. Who out there wouldn’t want to receive such fabulous prizes as Jar of Velvet Teeth! (no voodoo allowed) or Suggestive Baby!, Cylinder Santa!, Velvets Junior Thesis! Part I (Shes not just a pretty face!) and the most treasured of all Exclamatory Panties! . You are sitting on a gold mineso to speak.
Those panties are priceless. I know that there really is no correlation but I keep pitcturing Homer Simpson on the front.
My mother gave me all my old porcelain dolls that I had collected when I was little.
She also saves hair. Maybe I could give it to you, we could weave it together and have a completely organic necklace. Hottt
One dollar for the paper mache baby! It would look exceptionally creapy riding my scary turtle ashtray. I never did send my exwife a Christmas present!
You should glue the teeth ON the papier mache baby! Or on its erection!
Fencer 4—YOU ARE ON!
NO ONE WOULD WIN those teeth over me….NO ONE.
I know a woman who has her son’s umbilical cord stump preserved in formaldehyde.
He’s 33 years old.
Edina- Thank you. I am amused and horrified and I now have “Vagina Dentata” going through my head to the tune of “Hakuna Matata”.
as wonderful as it musta been to see old ‘friends’ in the 7 boxes, HA HA HA HA HA!!!! Your mom Totally got you. lol!!
Meanwhile, teeth? Save them and if you ever go broke, there’s like 10 bux at least 😉
I’m fairly certain that the Oh! thong is some sort of promo item from a Cable TV station. Isn’t there an Oh! network? What kind of mailing list in Hell did your folks get themselves on? Careful, next trip out you may be getting “The Dog Whisperer – Loving Your Animal…One Inch at a Time.”
****If I tell you that the teeth creeped me out, will you still love me? No? Well, okay. Sorry.
I was right. Oh! is Oxygen, Television for Women.
I wouldn’t sell your baby-teeth, Velvet. With this crowd, you’d find out there was a Dolly/Velvet-Clone out there. Doing who knows what.
Be grateful that they only do this to you occassionally.
My brother travels home almost every weekend for various hunting seasons.
EVERY. DAMN. WEEKEND. he returns with a box of things for me. A huge box. Without fail.
This week’s loot:
A framed 8″x10″ of my mom at age 16
A massive scrapbook containing EVERY card I’ve ever received – including baby shower cards from before I was born.
8 novels she’d finished reading and thought I would like.
A tape case full of cassettes I listened to in Junior High.
3 cans of green beans, a box of Stove Top and a massively huge Tide Coldwater laundry detergent.
Marie – I don’t know. I’m down to two boxes. I sent them back with one box as well of things I wanted to keep but didn’t want to necessarily keep here.
Shopgirlove – I love that – “when your parents decide your schedule for dealing with the past.” Awesome!
Patsy – What exactly IS a training bra? What does it train the boobs for? How to get bigger?
Luck O’ The Irish – I never really realized how gross it is to keep teeth. I don’t keep other things that come out of my body – why teeth?
BC – As long as the tooth fairy paid on that sucker, I think your mom was good.
Jordan Baker – I suppose I didn’t like all that white space in the middle line? Oh, the illustrations were ridiculous as well. But they wouldn’t come out in a picture.
Wicked H – Wha??? They could live into their 80’s? Fuck me. I didn’t sign up for that shit! (Kidding!!)
Momentary Academic – Ugh. The book wasn’t that good. I wrote some stupid stuff and the teacher got mad. My parents were like, “Where did you get this from?”
Tacoma – My parents are Greek, and I read this David Sedaris book which I swear, is totally my parents. They keep all rotting fruit. They don’t throw anything out. Once they went to Europe and when they got to the “Do you have anything to declare” booth, my dad said no. But then they busted open their suitcase and found a bunch of fruit. It will be my father who will bring down the entire environment you know.
Kathryn – She could also utilize the other Velvet Family method: Ship it all via UPS. that’s what they did to my brother b/c he’s too far away in Michigan that they can’t just “pop” by with the boxes. He was like, “Every time I open the door the UPS guy is like, ‘another box from Connecticut.'”
Marci – Do you want the thong? They are unworn! I swear!
Phil – Me too. Me too…
The Captain – Nope. It’s an “OH” thong.
Giggles – HA! Do it! Do it! I’ll contribute my paper mache baby for that giftbox!!
Fencer4 – Oh boy. You are hilarious. An ebay auction of sorts, here on Velvet in Dupont. Interesting…
Rachel – That would be “D’oh!” These say “Oh!”
Kat – Ooh. Hair. That’s awesome!
Giggles – It’s yours! SOLD!
Edina – Glue teeth on the erection? What is this? The Edina method of…wait. I’m going to stop right there because my parents may check in to see what’s going on over here. Bad enough I’ve reminded them of the mental image of me in that “picture…”
Always Write – That. Is. Disgusting.
Beaker – Maybe the homeless people want the teeth?
FreckledK – I know, it is some promo from the cable network. See, when you get an item from someone in my family that they obtained for (obviously) free, you can also associate it with a business, cable network or other such business who would utilize promotional materials.
LPM – You know, I could use a Velvet Clone. I have a lot of work that needs to be done…
Meghan – They actually do this EVERY TIME I see them. Last time I went home they made me go through 2 boxes of old letters from college friends and such. I tossed it all. But then, once it hits the garbarge, my mom decides she needs to “approve” it’s disposal. THEN, half the items don’t pass approval, and fucking end up back in your room for review the next time you get home. It is a never-ending process. Now, let’s get down to business: What’s on the cassette tapes? There has to be good stuff! Come on! Billy Squier? Poison?
This is so fucking hilarious I have tears streaming down my face. When I dismantled my parents’ house of 50 years, I threw out the jar of my old teeth. Damn, I should have kept them! I also found the jar of vodka sitting right next to it that I put in that drawer in the 11th grade. They never knew apparently.
I too thought the thongs came from the Oh! Network and even googled the website to make sure and there was the “Oh!”
And thank you, Fencer4 for making me almost fall off my chair with Vagina Dentata. Hilarious, but dangerous!!
I didn’t bring up the David Sedaris thing because I thought you might me sick of it– but yah, I was totally thinking of that.
Barbara – They never found the vodka? Damn. Gloom and Doom found everything. Shit, they find things I haven’t even hidden yet.
NSLW – Fencer4 rocks. See? If you lived here, I would set you up with him. But nooooo, you have to go and live in New York….
Tacoma! – No, I’m not sick of it. But the weird thing is that reading David Sedaris for me is just like reading family journals or something. So instead of laughing hysterically, I’m nodding my head through the whole book going, “Uh huh, that’s right, preach it brother, that’s how they do it in OPA! land.”
Oh babygirl. Oh no. 🙂
I had a third grade teacher (what up Mr. Whilton?)that would have made you his star pupil with that papermache baby with penis in hand..I’m pretty sure he would have considered class that day foreplay..
Dearest Velvet without RS feed,
Why hast your RS feed ceased to show up in my bloglines?
Signed,
Concerned Highway
Put your teeth on a string and use it as your mojo!
KK – I know. You want the blue thong. It’s yours.
Elizabeth – 3rd grade? Wow, you learned early in your school. Though, my 3rd grade teacher was gay – my first experience identifying a gay male in a swarm of females.
I66 – Dearest highway. Thank you for clogging up for no reason this morning between Arlington and 495. You cost me an extra 20 minutes and I was late to work. Thanks a lot. Now, since YOU don’t properly, how do you expect me to? Love, blog.
(I know, you want to know how my blog drove to work this morning. I’m still working on that.)
Old Lady – I gots more mojo than I need!
I apologize. I’ve been taking something for that. I was less clogged up in that particular part later on in the day. In fact, I hear traffic was flowing freely from my exit(s).
Oh boy. I bet you can get some quick cash off that thong if you put it on eBay.
My family has started shipping my boxes of my stuff. Kind of annoying, b/c I want my future contributions to the Library of Congres — including my 8th grade mix-tape collection — taking up space in their houses, not mine.
Maybe we should have a garage sale. You bring the thongs, I’ll bring the casettes.
In between one of our many trans-atlantic/trans-continental moves, my mother threw out a lot of my stuff. When I opened boxes and found many “precious” things missing, I gave her hell for it. Now she saves everything. In her last move, she dumped all my stuff in boxes and put them in “my” room in her new house. She said she didn’t want to get scolded again. Now I have fun on vacations rummaging through old stuffed animals, high-school books and even some love letters from an “anonymous lover”. I’m sure, though, that if I ever move close to her, those boxes will be the first thing she delivers.
Oh and Velv, if I come down to DC for a weekend, can I still meet Fencer4?
That reminds me, a couple of years ago I found out my parents had tossed all of my old Sassy magazines (that so dates me). I think I could have gotten AT LEAST a couple hundred on E-bay. I assume everything I left at home has been sent to the dump.
NSLW – You would have to ask Fencer4. I am trying to fill up his dance card, so let me/us know!
Tacoma – Sassy is that magazine that all other magazines aspire to be. I don’t know why, I never read it when it was in circulation. And if it was so good, why did they stop printing? I just don’t get it. I’ll have to look it up on Wiki or something.
Circ – I only have one thong I’m willing to part with. Does one thong equal an entire yard sale?
If the one thong is yours, I’m sure it will draw a crowd at least. I’ve got a Turk I’m willing to sell for three for four dollars.
I am always willing to meet new people. Especially if they are hot and from New York. Velvet is in charge of my social life now though so as long as its ok with her its ok with me.
circum – “The One Thong to bring them all and in the darkness bind them”?… am I too geeky for the blog?
I don’t want to be rude, but can you possibly post something else, really anything will do. That paper-mache baby is really starting to get to me, it haunts my sleep now.
OMG! My parents are totally the same — I usually get at least one free thing for Chrismanukah, and every time I go home (or my parents come up here) they try to give me back my old stuff. (Except not my baby teeth. That would be like admitting the Tooth Fairy was a hoax.)