My parents were in the kitchen fixing tea and baklava for dessert and I was in the dining room working on my stupid RLUIPA appellate brief, when this happened. And yes it will make your mind boggle and your teeth gnash. Then you will know my life, you guys.
Mama Hoomster (“MH”): So it turns out that [redacted] lives right down the corner from us.
Papa Hoomster (“PH”): Oh?
MH: Yeah. I think she wants me to give her kids a ride to and from [redacted school name] every day.
PH: Really. :-|
MH: Yeah, [redacted] was like, oh, I hurt my [redacted] and ever since then I’ve been in so much pain and I really really really need someone to take [redacted x2] to school every day.
PH: Aw, jeez.
MH: So yeah, she’s [redacted Indo-Pak ethnicity], so she obviously wants me to chauffeur her kids around. Bleh.
PH: Yeah…don’t do that.
MH: I’m not going to. I’m going to make up some excuse or something so that she thinks i really can’t do it.
Me: …Or you could very plainly say that you’re not comfortable assuming the risk of driving thirty miles round-trip with two children that are not your own, and very politely turn her down.
PH: No.
MH: No.
Me: …Because that’s totally a whorish thing to say, right?
MH: Don’t say whorish.
PH: >:(
MH: I think I’m going to tell her that I’m moving. I can’t drive her kids around if I’m moving!
Me: …Yeah, OR instead of making up complicated lies that can easily be exposed as lies when it’s three months later and we’re very much living in the same place we’re now living, you could tell her, very plainly and politely, that you simply aren’t comfortable with driving other people’s children around every day.
MH: I can’t say that! :-O
PH: Beta, no, you have to be diplomatic.
Me: ….YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE ‘DIPLOMATIC’ WHEN THE REQUEST ITSELF IS AS BOGUS AS A VERY DISTANT ACQUAINTANCE ASKING YOU TO BE HER KIDS’ DAILY CHAUFFEUR FOR AT LEAST THE NEXT YEAR AND PROBABLY LONGER.
MH: >:(
PH: >:(
Me: >:(
MH: Huma, no. That is not how we do things.
PH: Yeah.
MH: I’m just going to tell her that we’re moving. And that I leave home every day at 6:30AM. Which I do. Is that not early enough to get her to stop asking me? What about 6:15AM?
PH: Yeah, totally 6:15AM.
MH: Yeah.
PH: That’s the problem with you and me, we’re not diplomatic enough.
[cue me sitting there with a self-inflicted concussion from the dining room table]
And for the record? Diplomatic: using or marked by tact in dealing with sensitive matters or people; “the hostess averted a confrontation with a diplomatic change of subject.
Hm. Google:Define spelled “letting a culturally informed, misguided concept of ethics and tact make you butt-paralyzingly stupid’” oddly.
I swear, my parents are so [redacted] sometimes. It’s part of their charm, I guess. :-P
Here’s a picture of my dad when he was around my age. He and his buddies lived on State Street in Chicago and one of them just bought a station wagon, so they road-tripped it up to the Dells. None of them had ever seen a station wagon before and my dad admits that they ‘didn’t know what it was for.’ They just saw it and were like OOH WE CAN FIT LOTS OF STUFF IN IT.
Hahaha. Foreigners. :-P
(In the words of Stewie Griffin, “you know, if it weren’t for 9/11, those guys would be adorable.”)
Sorry for the crap pic quality. Snapped it with my phone because no one dares to disturb my G-ma on the PC (with the scanner) when she's reading her news stories.
My parents replace “diplomatic” with “sensitive.” I refer to this as “lying” or “beating around the bush.”
Law school teaches us to be assertive and clear, and requires us not the lie. Apparently not applicable in real life. ;)