The Bowyer women like to think of ourselves as strong, independent, and driven. Depending on whom you ask, they may either agree or suggest a different, ruder word to describe us. But whether you think we’re more like Oprah or a James Bond villain…well to tell you the truth, we don’t really give two shits what you think. Our point is that we don’t exactly have the most normal or romantic of relationships. We don’t have the patience for most of that bullshit.
For example, Mom gave Dad a call in mid-August.
Mom: Is it the 17th today?
Dad: Yes ma’am!
Mom:...wasn’t our anniversary last week?
Dad: Yes ma’am, I believe it was!
Mom: Hm. Anyways, will you pick up my prescriptions on your way home today?
That’s how they’ve celebrated their anniversary every year for the past 27 years. We know, it’s a beautiful love story. Go ahead and get a tissue, we’ll wait.
You might be thinking that, since they’re still kind of sort of newlyweds, Lindsay and Jesse are at least a little more traditionally romantic. Their favorite way to spend a Friday night is to buy a 12-pack, get in their sweatpants, and play Lego Batman on Xbox.
So…you were wrong.
In fact, Lindsay and Jesse are almost reversed in their roles as husband and wife. Lindsay sent Jesse off to his friend’s bachelor party in Vegas with a wallet full of 1 and 5 dollar bills, because…
Lindsay: What the fuck is the point of going to Vegas if you don’t go to a strip club?
Conversely, Jesse likes to annoy Lindsay by being overly affectionate in public.
Lindsay: Jesse. Stop it. There are people around.
Jesse: If loving you is a crime, then I’m guilty as charged!
Sara, the only unattached member of the house (holla back, single ladies!), somehow has the worst reputation for not having the patience for romanticism. The last boy (a.k.a The Biscuit) that Sara brought home received a very warm, comforting greeting:
Mom: So has anyone told you that Sara has no soul?
Sara: *In an angry whisper* Shut. Up. Mother.
The Biscuit: …excuse me?
Sara: Nothing! Now let’s get going, hm?
Later, when they hadn’t heard anything from Sara about good ol’ Biscuit, they asked.
Dad: What happened to that guy you went out with?
Sara: Eh. Not much.
Dad: That lame, huh?
Sara: No, not at all. He was just too nice.
Mom: What do you mean?
Sara: He wouldn’t let me pay for dinner and then tried to hold my hand.
Mom: So…basically he tried to be a gentleman and treat you to a nice date?
Sara: Yes, and it was SO irritating.
This Sunday night, we had our usual family dinner. Barbecued ribs, sweet potatoes, and grilled peaches. Yeah, we know. You’re jealous. We would be too!
Dad (for the 3rd time): Sara, do you want a peach?
Sara and Lindsay: No!
Dad: Jeez...you don't need to be so snotty!
Mom: Well you ask the same thing over and over!
Dad: *pauses * Give me your hand and I'll change your life.
Dad: I want to kiss your hand!
After a brief scuffle during which there was a lot of yelling and loud noises, Mom offered Dad her hand. He grabbed it and kissed it, but apparently grasped onto the post-op scar on her hand.
*Lindsay and Sara snicker*
Dad: I was being a romantic!
Later, after we stopped laughing our faces off at Dad’s “I’ll change your life” comment, we wrote down a rough draft of this blog. If we don’t do this, we usually don’t remember the conversations for later. It’s pretty disappointing, actually, how many other hilarious things have gone undocumented. Maybe we shouldn’t drink so much?
Pfft. Like that’s ever going to happen.
So we had Mom read through our rough draft, and she had this to say:
Mom: You know he didn't actually grab my scar. I just said ouch.
Sara: To be a bitch.
Mom: *nods in agreement.*
And in conclusion but completely unrelated, Mom still can’t manage to get even the most prominent of names correct:
Mom: Well I didn't get to watch Chris Wallace today and I didn't watch Huckabee because he had Justin Beaver's Mom on.