Panic
I am nothing if not predictable. Monday-Friday, I eat the same food for every meal. 
I wake up at the same time every day, go to bed at the same time every day. By 5:00 you can find me at the gym, 6:30 eating dinner, 7:00 on the couch grading/blogging/watching tv/emailing friends. If we make plans for 7:00 on Friday, I'll be there at 7:00 on Friday. If there is a chance that I am going to be more than 5 minutes late, I'll text you or call you to tell you so. I have told my boyfriend that if ever I tell him I will be somewhere at some time, and I am not there within a few minutes of when I say I will be, call the police to tell them to start searching for the bloody remains of a 30-year-old white female on the side of the major roadways in the Chicago.
I am like this because my parents made me this way by being the two most predictable people on the face of the Earth, leading me to this story. It takes place over the course of about 25 minutes, which, in my family, is 20 minutes longer than is needed to make my sister and me totally hysterical.
My parents were supposed to go to my sister's house on Thursday night. I was at book club when my phone rang at about 8:00, and I saw my niece's (adorable) face on the caller ID, indicating that it was my sister. Because my sister never calls me at 8:00 on any night, I picked up the phone, assuming it must be important if she was calling me at this hour. She told me that my parents had said they would be coming over, but they had not yet shown up. This is not at all like them, and my heart immediately started racing. I said goodbye to my book club friends, and started toward my boyfriend's house, which is about 10 blocks from where book club was being held. I called him to tell him what was going on, and he told me to keep calling them and to try some of their friends to see if anyone had heard from them.
On my way to his house, both my sister and I tried home and cell phones multiple times. When I say "multiple" I mean I made about 15 calls in those 10 blocks. They did not answer any phone. When I tell normal people this story, they might think, "Well maybe they were at dinner or a movie and they had their phones off." Wrong. Not only would they never go to dinner and a movie when they said they would be at my sister's house, but they ALWAYS answer the phone. My dad could be at the consecration of the Pope, and he would take a call in the middle of Holy Communion. We do not screen out the phone calls of family members in the Mischke family. If we do, and the person calls 15 times in the space of 10 city block's drive-time, we come to our senses and pick up.
My sister lives only about 15 minutes from my parents' house, so she drove over there to see if they were home. To me, this meant my soon-to-be permanently scarred sister was driving to find the bloody remains of our parents. At this point I was sobbing, hyperventilating and sweating, while trying to figure out how I would deal with the news media that would inevitably descend upon the home of the tragic suburbanite family who had its loving parents slain in some awful way in their quiet neighborhood. When she got there, she opened the garage door, and all of the cars were there. This sent us both into a complete panic (as if we were not in one already), and she hung up to call 911, as my boyfriend told her it was not safe to go in the house alone if something might be wrong. *For some reason it took the cops about 15 minutes to arrive, which gave my sister and I plenty of time to sob on the phone together while she sat in her car in front of their house, and I sat helpless in the boyfriend's living room 25 miles away.
When the cops came, they went in the house, and my mom was sitting on the couch, probably watching soap operas, and my dad was upstairs, probably watching 'Seconds from Disaster'. They had gotten in an argument; they "weren't in the mood to talk," so they didn't pick up any of the three phones that had rung 30 times in the last 25 minutes. Unacceptable. I have never been so terrified in my whole life.
*My heart is literally racing just telling the story.
I wake up at the same time every day, go to bed at the same time every day. By 5:00 you can find me at the gym, 6:30 eating dinner, 7:00 on the couch grading/blogging/watching tv/emailing friends. If we make plans for 7:00 on Friday, I'll be there at 7:00 on Friday. If there is a chance that I am going to be more than 5 minutes late, I'll text you or call you to tell you so. I have told my boyfriend that if ever I tell him I will be somewhere at some time, and I am not there within a few minutes of when I say I will be, call the police to tell them to start searching for the bloody remains of a 30-year-old white female on the side of the major roadways in the Chicago.I am like this because my parents made me this way by being the two most predictable people on the face of the Earth, leading me to this story. It takes place over the course of about 25 minutes, which, in my family, is 20 minutes longer than is needed to make my sister and me totally hysterical.
My parents were supposed to go to my sister's house on Thursday night. I was at book club when my phone rang at about 8:00, and I saw my niece's (adorable) face on the caller ID, indicating that it was my sister. Because my sister never calls me at 8:00 on any night, I picked up the phone, assuming it must be important if she was calling me at this hour. She told me that my parents had said they would be coming over, but they had not yet shown up. This is not at all like them, and my heart immediately started racing. I said goodbye to my book club friends, and started toward my boyfriend's house, which is about 10 blocks from where book club was being held. I called him to tell him what was going on, and he told me to keep calling them and to try some of their friends to see if anyone had heard from them.
On my way to his house, both my sister and I tried home and cell phones multiple times. When I say "multiple" I mean I made about 15 calls in those 10 blocks. They did not answer any phone. When I tell normal people this story, they might think, "Well maybe they were at dinner or a movie and they had their phones off." Wrong. Not only would they never go to dinner and a movie when they said they would be at my sister's house, but they ALWAYS answer the phone. My dad could be at the consecration of the Pope, and he would take a call in the middle of Holy Communion. We do not screen out the phone calls of family members in the Mischke family. If we do, and the person calls 15 times in the space of 10 city block's drive-time, we come to our senses and pick up.
My sister lives only about 15 minutes from my parents' house, so she drove over there to see if they were home. To me, this meant my soon-to-be permanently scarred sister was driving to find the bloody remains of our parents. At this point I was sobbing, hyperventilating and sweating, while trying to figure out how I would deal with the news media that would inevitably descend upon the home of the tragic suburbanite family who had its loving parents slain in some awful way in their quiet neighborhood. When she got there, she opened the garage door, and all of the cars were there. This sent us both into a complete panic (as if we were not in one already), and she hung up to call 911, as my boyfriend told her it was not safe to go in the house alone if something might be wrong. *For some reason it took the cops about 15 minutes to arrive, which gave my sister and I plenty of time to sob on the phone together while she sat in her car in front of their house, and I sat helpless in the boyfriend's living room 25 miles away.
When the cops came, they went in the house, and my mom was sitting on the couch, probably watching soap operas, and my dad was upstairs, probably watching 'Seconds from Disaster'. They had gotten in an argument; they "weren't in the mood to talk," so they didn't pick up any of the three phones that had rung 30 times in the last 25 minutes. Unacceptable. I have never been so terrified in my whole life.
*My heart is literally racing just telling the story.
posted by Sue Ellen Mischke at 5:34 AM
16 Comments:
Hmm... glad everything turned out ok, but I think I just got a little glimpse in my mother's psyche when she doesn't get a response to her email within like 30 seconds...
Sounds like you're parents have decided to shake things up a bit. Maybe you should go buy a case of Cream of Mushroom soup.
There's nothing wrong with a little predictability. Truth is, life is pretty routine. However, if this had been a real emergency, how we would all long for more of the same 'ol humdrum. Any ways, I'm glad things are okay.
That was like reading a teaser on Fark, Cops called. Hilarity ensues.
Glad everything was OK. And I'm sure you and your sister gave your parents a good tongue lashing.
I'm glad it all was fine in the end, of course, but what in the name of all that is holy were your parents doing just letting the damn phone ring and ring and ring and, dare I say, ring?
My God, no wonder you were sick with worry.
Crazy parents (and I can say that cos I've got crazy parents, too).
;-)
Hey, Sue Ellen, maybe you'll enjoy this dream I had...
Gee, I was absolutely positive they were having sex.
Lee, gross.
*, I can't imagine what they were thinking in letting the phone ring, ring, ring. And that can't be the first time you've had a sex dream about elaine.
Lux, yes, I did.
Famous, I love predictability.
Marc, let's not get carried away.
Dan, the funny thing is, my mom is the same way. So I can't quite understand why should would do that when, if my sister or I did the same thing, she'd be calling all the hospitals looking for us.
Y'know, though, I think it is!
I had a girlfriend call the cops to my apartment a couple of years ago.
She called my phone(s) about fifteen times and I didn't answer.
It was midnight. I was asleep.
But I awoke to her and two cops banging on my door at 3 AM.
That makes me chuckle.
My overporotective single mother turned me into a worrier too, which I even have to dial down when it comes to my friends. I won't hear from one of them via email at work one day and of course they are dead or in the hospital or something. I HATE IT!
Yeah, meanwhile, I've always figured that people might eventually think something is wrong when the smell gets really bad. But even then, it will have to be a potent smell...
Bone, wow. I don't think I'd do that for anyone but my parents or family.
Dwight, it doesn't take much for me to worry. I don't worry about my friends as much, except for roommates. After all, if a roommate goes, I'm responsible for his/her half of the rent.
Dan, yes, the smell. One of my biggest fears is choking to death when I'm home alone and a neighbor calling the cops because of the strange smell coming from my apartment.
wow in a weird way I'm glad my parents are frequently late and often forget things. I don't ever worry about them... unless they drunk drive. God that is so annoying.
Roxy, why is it that parents this it's okay to drink and drive? I never saw my parents consume a drop of liquor until I was in college. Now they drink when they are out with friends, but they also drive after going out drinking with those friends. Like drunk driving accidents don't happen to middle aged people in the suburbs?
IS IT OK TO BE HORNEY AND DRIVE?
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