We have rumours that are quite fun. Who has drug orgies, who stole a man from their daughter, who's cheating on who ...

And, of course, who's in the closet, or who refuses to admit other family members aren't in the closet any more.

It's a running joke that my family forgets to tell me stuff, from the important "T had her baby!" to the unimportant "Oh, we're meeting here for dinner rather than the usual place." I retaliate by not mentioning things like travel plans. "Hey, whatcha doing on Saturday?" "Oh, I'll be in L.A., why?"

My folks have gotten in the habit of telling me rather late in the game that, oh yeah, Mom was in the hospital again, last week. Or, as Dad mentioned last night at 9:30, "Oh, yeah, we've had to have the EMTs out twice in the past couple of days." At least they mentioned the current round of hospitalization before she checked out. Oy. Part of it is that Dad's caught up in actually dealing with things as they happen, then dealing with the fall-out afterward, and puts contacting the daughters down on the "later" end of the to do list. Understandable. But my sister and I have gotten in the habit of calling one another after a round of parental talks, just to cross-check data.

But my sister and I have gotten in the habit of calling one another after a round of parental talks, just to cross-check data.

oh, totally. And if my mother calls one of us with an insane request, the other calls IMMEDIATELY to warn of the impending insanity.

Bet that wasn't as big a shock as when he told you he was related to Billy Idol.

Dude, I have a better chance of being related to Billy (mmm, Billy) than my husband does. Hubby's family is mostly German.

And I would remember. Hell, I'd have been at that restricted gate saying, "Tell Billy his cousin's here."

There was one occasion when a guy I was dating called my parents (near San francisco) looking for me and my mom told him that she had just spoken to my sister (up in Humboldt County) and heard that I had left my sister's not long before and would be home (Gold Country) that evening. When he was successfully found me at home when she said I would be, he said my family communicated too much.

My parents, or rather my mother, don't tell me important things like, say, my brother having a kid or various relatives having heart attacks or my cat dying. However, detailed and boring updates on how people I *may* have gone to high school with, never hung out with, and cannot for the life of me remember are par for the course.

However, detailed and boring updates on how people I *may* have gone to high school with, never hung out with, and cannot for the life of me remember are par for the course.

I've had this conversation several times:

Mom: Do you remember So-and-So?

Me: No.

Mom: Well, she died.

Does Deena have time to read Natter? Well, if so...

Happy Birthday, Deena!!

If not, the well wishes still hold.

That's a common Friday night dinner conversation, except with added discussion of why DH should remember So-and-So, is he sure he doesn't?

And now I'm grateful that my parents moved to a different state after I graduated from High School.