The Incredible Disintegrating Red Parka

Note: If my parents read this, I hope that they read it in the spirit of humor with which it was intended. : )

My parents throw nothing away. NOTHING. That's not a completely bad thing, mind you. Frugality on the surface is a very good thing. My car is almost eleven years old. The paint is chipping off and the upholstery looks terrible, but it still runs and it's paid for. I won't be throwing that away until I absolutely have to. But some things, let's face it, need to be thrown away.

Case in point:

Mark, the boys, and I went to my parents' for Thanksgiving this year. Mark and I went out early to do some shopping on the day after Thanksgiving, and it was a bit chilly out. So I asked to borrow a jacket on Mark's behalf as he had left his at home. (Actually, he left his jacket in Arizona, but that's another post.) So Mom produces this red parka and and we go on our way.

A little while later, I notice that Mark is a) not wearing the jacket, and b)shivering. So I ask - "What happened to the red jacket?" He replies, "It disintegrated." I ask for clarification. He says, "Every time I move, or touch that jacket in any way, this cloud of red dust flies off of it. I felt like some kind of synthetic Pig Pen. And it kind of stinks."

I reach into the back seat and grab the jacket. Sure enough, a cloud of red dust followed it, and it smelled like rotting flesh. And there was a blanket of red dust all over the back seat. The jacket was literally decomposing before our very eyes. I put the jacket back on the seat and we never spoke of it again.

Fast forward to this week. Paul sends me a surprise DVD in the mail. "OOOOHHHHH! Videos of Sam" I think. So we pop it in the DVD player, only to find that it's a DVD copy of home movies from when I was a kid. The boys loved it - they couldn't believe the awful clothes we wore (especially Paul) and they couldn't believe Nana and Granddaddy ever looked so young. Good times. (Thanks Uncle Paul!)

Then we get to the goofy "Fun Times" video we made in the back yard one Saturday. I was probably around six - well over thirty years ago. And I notice that my dad is wearing a red parka. The Incredible Disintegrating Red Parka! No wonder that thing was falling apart.

I asked Mark what he did with the parka. "I hung it back in the closet next to a hoop skirt and some stone tablets." If any of it is still in there next Thanksgiving, I think I'll sneak it out and give it a proper burial.