Hoarding pickles and other sad things...

Are your parents driving you crazy?...because mine are.  Or at least they do sometimes.  

Like this past week for example.  I was getting ready to go to South America and on Wednesday I talked to my mom and asked her if there were any last minute things they wanted to add to the list of what I'm bringing them.  She said they'd think on it.  And I said, "well, will you think about it tonight or tomorrow morning and email me the list?  Because I'd like to get all of my errands done tomorrow." 

Thursday comes.  No list from my parents.  'I guess they don't need me to bring anything else,' I think and I head to town (town is what we country folk call the nearest "large" city). 


So, I get home later that evening and check my email and...there's the list...sent at 5 P.M. Thursday night.  What?  I just finished all my shopping!  


And people are probably saying, "Don't be such a complainer Becca.  I'm sure it  wasn't a big deal to just stop by the grocery store one more time before flying out."  


But what you don't understand is that quite often their lists include things that aren't easily found all at one grocery store.  Their lists of things usually take quite awhile to gather.  It is really a good thing I guess that I'm not employed full-time right now.  I have no idea where I'd find the time to take care of putting together all the "shipments" my parents receive.  


I think the thing on this last list that made me the most crazy was the request for Spitz brand cracked pepper sunflower seeds.  I mean I don't mind picking up some sunflower seeds, but when you specify the flavor and the brand you kind of make my life crazy!  


I went to three different grocery stores looking for them.  No luck.  In the end I discovered that the place to buy Spitz cracked pepper sunflower seeds is at gas stations...now I know.


Some other things on their list were Rootbeer barrels (where do you buy these...does anyone eat these? yuck!) and a box of Idaho Spud candy bars...and not everybody sells Idaho Spud candy bars these days.  


And really, to shift some of the blame, a lot of the buggy things my parents ask me to bring are not for them, but for missionaries and members.  But if someone says that they like something from the U.S. my parents (mostly my dad) love to be able to hook up them up.  Hence the last minute requests for what I think are weird things.  


My dad is sort of a people pleaser, and I guess so am I or I wouldn't do what I do.  


And my parents aren't really too horribly high maintenance...they don't make me feel bad if I'm not able to get all their errands done.  And they always tell me that if I don't have time that I don't need to worry about it.  But I do worry about it.  Because three years is a long time to go without some of your favorite things...milk, sour cream, berries, good American candy, Mexican food, peanut butter, Hershey's syrup, dill pickles, and the plethora of other good things that are not to be found in Northeastern Brazil.  So I don't blame them for wanting what they want.  Also, since I'm thinking there's a high chance that I will someday again live abroad, I guess I'm banking favors.  And boy do they owe me!


As a side note, we have a friend from Brazil who is attending BYU-Idaho.  Recently my parents had some other friends traveling from Fortaleza, Brazil to Idaho so they were able to bring the girl at BYU-Idaho a suitcase full of things from Brazil that she'd been missing.  Here's the conversation I had with my mom about that suitcase full of Brazilian loot.  


My mom: "OMH, you should have seen the things her parents sent her in that suitcase...dried beans, mix for cheese bread, those little potato chip slivers that Brazilians eat on top of everything.  Can you believe it?"


Me: "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, holy crappoly are you kidding me mom?...listen to yourself...do you want me to start listing all of the ridiculous things I've sent you in the last 2.5 years?"


My mom: nothing


I guess she didn't want me to start listing things.   


Anyway, to each his own I guess.  My parents have things they love and miss from America and Brazilians in America have things they love and miss from Brazil.  I guess you like what you're used to.  Although my brother Lee does try to convince every foreigner he meets that overall we have the best candy in the world.  And really, we do.  The Japanese have Hi-Chews, the Germans have Haribo, the Finnish have licorice, and Europe in general has chocolate, but overall, in my humble opinion, we do have the best variety and overall candy selection of any country in the world.  

Anyway, back to the point at hand.  In preparation for my trip I sent an email to my mom asking her if they had any dill pickles left or if she wanted me to bring another jar.  


She replied, "we have two left." 


To which I responded, "two jars of pickles or two pickles?"


And then she answered, "two pickles...and I ate a couple of slices off of one of them today."  


And that made me want to both laugh and cry...to imagine my parents huddled around their fridge, the glow from the refrigerator light making the scene seem extra sad and depressing, looking at those last two pickles bobbing in their brine and contemplating the day they'd eat them and the sadness and emptiness that would follow when they realized that there would then be nothing else to look forward to. 


So, I guess that's why I do what I do...why I let myself be driven crazy...to keep those depressing pickle hoarding moments out of my mind and off of my conscience.  


Oh, and since I titled this post "Hoarding pickles and other sad things," I guess I'd better think of some other sad things.  


people with really bad/missing teeth
little kids having to sell stuff in the streets
people with missing limbs
babies having their faces licked by dogs
etc.


Those things all make me sad.  


What makes you sad?
What things would you have a hard time living without if you lived in another country?
What do your parents do that drives you crazy?


Yes, I am begging for comments.  I might as well just come out and say it.  


Later leeches...