I love my parents. I mean, I really, truly will do anything for them. And I’m happy they live nearby so I can visit them and not worry. HOWEVER, there are times I think they need to be institutionalized and I should move somewhere like Alaska. Here’s why:

One Saturday morning, my friend and I decide to take a pilates class at the YMCA (I’m trying to be healthy). Pilates is kind of like yoga. Lots of breathing and silence. Keyword: SILENCE.

Of course, in the middle of the class, what would happen? My phone rings. I look around and see people asking, “Whose phone is that? Idiot.” And of course my phone is ringing NONSTOP. At this point, the instructor is hunting down the phone and I have to fess up.

Embarrassed, I walk to my phone. I notice 60 (yes, 60!) missed calls from, guess who? My parents.

Seriously, if you’ve called me 40 times, does that really mean you have to call 20 more? I like how my mom and dad alternate their calls to “trick” me into picking up. At this point, I’m getting more and more annoyed and thinking I should really move to Alaska when I hear the door open. I’m thinking it’s probably someone from the next class being rude and trying to get in before our class is over, so I’m prepared to give the most horrible glare, when I see that at the door is an old Chinese man. … Wait. That old Chinese man is my Korean father! OH MY GOD, WHY IS HE HERE?!

I notice that my dad is pointing at me, waving and laughing.

By now, the class is over, so it’s time for me to yell.

Me: OLD MAN! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO CALL 60 TIMES? IF I DON’T PICK UP, THAT MEANS I’M DOING SOMETHING!
Dad: Oh sorry, Eul Sanga. I was just worried.
Me: Why?
Dad: Because you didn’t pick up your phone. Or answer your door.
Me:  MOH! (WHAT!)
Dad: Mommy and I went to your apartment and you didn’t answer the door, even when we yelled and kicked.
Me: (Sigh.) But why were you guys so worried?
Dad: (Laughing) Oh, I thought you committed suicide.
Me: MOH?!  
Mom: Eul Sanga, I know what your problem is. You have multiple personality disorder. You’re happy, sad and angry at the same time.
Me: Umma, it’s not multiple personality disorder. It’s called having you and dad as parents. By the way, how did you learn about that?
Mom: Sidney Sheldon.
Me: How did you know I was at the Y?
Dad: Oh, your brother told us.
Me: How did you know how to get here?
Dad: He drew us a map.

Did I tell you I love my family?