tardiscrash:

Seriously. Normally my family only really calls for major holidays and birthdays so this was odd. But apparently she called to tell/remind me that when I was a week from seven months old we had all been sitting around to watch the Challenger space shuttle launch (because that is the sort of shit my family did together), before my parents said anything just when it exploded I pointed at the screen and said “Something’s wrong momma.”

At Seven months.

She goes on to tell me that people around the neighbourhood (and this was downtown LA in the 80s) all apparently knew about me and when I would go in places they would go, “oh, it’s that baby.” And they would give me things. Like money or little toys. I actually remember a strange woman giving me a toy panda wearing a yellow and black plaid shirt.

Then my dad gets on the phone and we end up getting in to talking about how frustrating it is talking to people who not only can’t keep up but don’t try and try to derail what you are saying about physics(me) or Roman military history(him) and make it about farts or wrestling.

Seriously. My parents.

And people wonder why I am so insufferable.