My parents left today. They did so much to help get my apartment set up - it is going to be amazing when I can actually drag my act together and finish organizing it. They also kept me well fed and better liquored than I would have otherwise chosen to be during Training Camp (yes, we are still practicing every night). Last night, after sharing 2 bottles of wine 4 ways, my dad drove rather aggressively home - driving like a "Quebecer" in his words. "It's one of those Quebec things that just happens," explained my brother;" aggressive driving, talking like you're trying to simultaneously trying to spit and swallow, and poutine."
"Poutine does not just happen," Papa Black exclaimed, with more than a subtle note of disgust. This sound bite made me laugh out loud the rest of the night.
In addition to being helpful on many home fronts, my mother also did something entirely unhelpful. While trying to help defrost my freezer, my mum stabbed the Freon line in my fridge with a screw driver. I have no fridge, and my house is full of noxious poison, but I did get to eat pudding for dinner, so it's basically a wash.
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