ew

Something gross happened yesterday.

It was Mother's Day in the UK yesterday and we were preparing for Chris' mum to visit us. We hadn't properly cleaned the flat yet and I was all in a rush at 10.45am to make the place appear as tidy as possible. Chris was laxly sitting on the sofa, watching Sky Sports News. I jumped in the shower first because my hair takes ages to air dry, and surprised myself by actually being able to take a shower less than 10 minutes long. So I'm rushing around, trying to shuffle into these tights I bought which I'm sure are for children because they only come half way up my thigh, until I tug and pull and they barely cover my ass. It's all very lovely up until this point. So I shout at Chris who has now finished the dishes and has moved on to wiping the counters. He's very annoying when he does this because it takes him ages and he doesn't know which cleaning products to use and there's this massive stain on our stovetop and he's concerned it won't come off.

I shuffle him into the bathroom soon there after insisting that I can take care of the kitchen. When you turn our bathroom light on, the fan automatically comes on, but I can still hear if shower water is running or not. And it wasn't. And he had been in there for about 5 minutes. I then shout "what are you doing in there?" and Chris shouts back with much disdain "I'm on the toilet!!".

But that's not the gross part.

The day prior he had been travelling on the bus and just scoping around from the top deck. And there he spotted a street in East London called 'Diss Street'. He promptly went 'hmmph' out because he thought it was funny. Imagine calling someone and saying 'I'm on diss street' and the person on the other line goes 'no I'm on diss street'. Say it out loud if you don't think it's funny. And if you still don't think it's funny; welcome to my life. The reason this was such a huge cause for concern, a shiny red flag was because this is my dad's exact humour. He loves a pun, especially anything to do with saying something the way a foreigner would say it (both my parents were Polish immigrants and this caused riotous jokes between my uncle and father in what their parents would say and pronounce. For example: Dallas, Texas would become Dollars, Taxes...these are all massive family in-jokes which I am still trying to distance myself from, but I hope you're getting my point).

Right so I knew immediately that my dad would think that's funny. And then the toilet bowl disdain. My father is identical. My dad is the most easy going, lax man, who when he yelled at us as children (which was very few and far between) we would all start laughing because it's impossible to take him seriously. My brother still riles him up to get some form of hilarious outburst (but at least we aren't making fun on his accent...). But there is a time when you never disturb my dad, and that's bathroom time. I remember once, I hadn't realised where he was, and someone was on the phone for him, and I kept shouting and shouting throughout the house until finally he screamed, with a similar shrill to Chris', "I'm on the toilet!!". This was not a man to be disrupted.

I spoke with my dad on the phone last night and told him the 'diss street' because I knew he would get a kick out of it. And it was also to confirm my feelings I had earlier.

After Chris shouted back at me I started to vacuum the bedroom. "Eww. I married my father" I said out loud to myself, disappointed that I could have been so careless. But in what sort of Freudian nightmare does a Waspy guy from Britain and Jewy guy from Montreal possess any sort of similar characteristics, sense of humour? This all makes me feel rather queasy.