Indians, strippers, and gangstas.

That's my Christmas morning.

My dad's been talking in an Indian accent all morning, and hearing a Syrian dude talking in an Indian accent is fucking hilarious.

"I am derty and my wife is derty, doo. I was a wolleywall champion in India."

My mum has this thing where she thinks gangsta ass shit is cute. She has a hoodie with colored foil diamonds all over it, and it zips up allllll the way, and she wears it daily. She loves it. And she bought my sister a South Pole coat... the short poofy kind with the big fur hood. She didn't understand why my sister was like, "Uh.. this is... nice, mom."

My mum put on the scarf my grandma gave me, this foofy little pink number and my dad comes up and goes, "What the hell is that? That is like... a stripper"

So this ends up being, "I am derty and a stripper, and my children are ghetto, dank you. I go dance, I make some money, send back to India."

To which my twelve year old sister responds, "Mom, nobody wants to see you strip. We'll be poor forever."

Oh, hilarity.

 

And now my sister's telling my dad she sold his underwear on Ebay to a middle-aged woman from Minnesota.

"She sent me an email yesterday. The underwear aren't doing it for her anymore, she wants the whole package. She's on her way; she'll be here tomorrow".

 

awesome.

 

Curry black vaginas?

 

Got any paneer in there?

 

win.

 

My dad always screams hello into the phone in an Asian accent when I call. That's pretty much the whole conversation "Ello? Ello! ELLO?!?! ELLO!" Sometimes he throws in "Aaah, velly good!" in there, too.

 

My little sister is gonna grow up to be just as loopy as me, and I love every second of it.

 

Sounds great. Do you think your family would adopt me?