Fortunately, it turned out fine. Going to a family reunion rather than a funeral probably helped. And Dad was actually reasonable. I think Mom's always mentioning that if he will be grumpy the whole trip then please don't come is maybe sinking in that sometimes he's not so much fun to travel with.
For some reason on the trip back my mother and I started discussing Mercedes Lackey. Mom has never read any Lackey, and was asking about it. The following conversation ensued:
Me: She's not a very good writer.
Mom: How so?
Me: Her grammar's pretty bad for a professional author. And she over uses italics and semicolons. I once took one of her books and counted the number of pages that had no italics on them. (Four, for a book of around 350 pages.) I also took one of her books and counted all the semicolons. She averaged 2 1/2 semicolons per page, with the highest number of semicolons on one page being 8.
Dad: There sure are a lot of bikers going the other way. (*)
Me: (half joking) What, you haven't been counting them?
Dad: 252... 253... 255, 257...
Me: *just about falls over laughing*
Yup, I know where I inhertied my anal retentiveness from.
* This weekend happens to be a huge annual biker convention in Hollister. The route we took connected to one of the highways leading to Hollister. Hence, lots and lots of hogs.
