Back to a reality of being blamed

I called my parents for the first time since coming back to New York this evening, and my mom immediately brings up the spicy food order I sent them and says that it has now caused my dad a prostate infection. She said she didn’t want to blame me, but she wanted me to know the facts. Umm… what? That was weeks ago now, and what does a spicy food order from over two weeks ago have to do with some supposed prostate infection of today? I told her I had no idea what she was talking about and to put my dad on the phone. He was awkward, but he would tell this to me straight.

“The food has nothing to do with the infection,” my dad said in an annoyed tone. “Don’t listen to anything she says. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. And also, we’re still waiting for the test results, so we don’t even know if I actually have a prostate infection yet. Prostate infections cannot be caused by food. She just loves to connect two unrelated things and say one caused the other.”

Oh, really? Are you just realizing that now, Dad?

 

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