A (Phony) Fight to the Death

I went to visit my parents earlier this week, and things got crazy. Before I tell you what happened, here's a little background: My mom is a typical Argentine mother—intensely loving, passionate, incredibly opinionated, and endlessly fearful of life's dangers. She's a catastrophist. When she hears a rustling in the bushes at night, her first thought is never, "Ah, it must be an opossum, how cute." Her first thought is that it's a crazed killer crawling through the bushes, targeting her, my dad, and the four dogs for his next mass murder. Upon hearing the rustling in the bushes, she'll call the police, whispering, "Officer, I do not have barry much time. There ees a keeler outside my weendow. Plez come quickly!!!"

My dad, on the other hand, is fearless, energetic, intensely passionate, and loves to live dangerously. He's also very giving - to a fault. His need to give and his passion for peril have led him to engage in what could be best described as “dangerous acts of kindness.” For instance, he walks around the neighborhood with his lawnmower, scoping out lawns that appear unkempt, muttering, "These lazy neighbors! Toma cinco minutos to make the lawn look nice! Carajo!" He then mows the unkempt lawns when they’re not home, then leaves a note on their porch that reads, "We have mowed your grass for you. Next time it's in this condition, we will consider arrest.” - The Los Angeles Police Department - Clean Neighborhood Division."

Too many times I've watched my neighbors return from work, gaze at their lawns, look around nervously, then walk inside, locking their doors behind them.

This old-fashioned, risqué manner of carrying himself has gotten him into trouble with my mom on numerous occasions, and last week was no exception. He decided he would once and for all find my mom’s old record player so she could listen to her old records (also so he’d stop hearing the constant ". But instead of simply finding it and giving it to her, he opted for one of his classic pranks: pretending there's a home invader, then he defeats that intruder, seizes the record player, and heroically presents it to my mom. Normal prank, right?

"Do you hear that?" my dad asked me. I ignored his query. "What is it? Is it like disco music, no? Coming from the garage?" 

There was no disco music emanating from the garage, but the air of concern made my mom sweat. "Is someone there? In de garage? Who ees it? Ayyy no!” my perpetually anxious, very Argentine mother cried. 

My dad then rose heroically from his chair and announced that he would take care of whoever or whatever broke into the garage to play disco music. My mom screamed curses in Spanish, pleading with him not to go in there, threatening to call the police.

He walked toward the garage, chuckling to himself, while my mom implored him to seek cover. Upon reaching the garage door, he turned to my mom, who was shrieking from the back window, and blew her a kiss. He then entered the garage and immediately started knocking things over and grunting to simulate the sounds of a ferocious battle. As my mom screamed, "HELP!! AYUDA!!!" he'd escalate the intensity of the ruckus.

At this point, my mom was in tears, convinced that at any moment a blood-drenched criminal would emerge from the garage and come for her next. Yet, after an ear-piercing "ROYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!" from my mom, he realized he had gone too far and would hasten the "fight." 

"Never set foot in this house again!" he yelled as he emerged from the garage, wearing his T-shirt backward, hair disheveled, with ketchup splattered on his face and neck, limping toward the back door while clutching a large box.

"I beat him up! He left crying!" he announced upon reentering the house, wiping ketchup from his eyelids. "He was carrying thees. What do you think thees is?" My dad then presented the box to my mom. My mom, wiping tears from her eyes, realizing she had fallen victim to yet another one of his pranks, scolded him while opening the gift.

"Wow, ees my record player. Gracias, loquito. Can joo bring me my Donna Summers record?"