My parents called last night. It was after dinner and right around the time we put the kids to bed. Our phone usually doesn’t ring that last so I assumed either they were calling to wish us a happy anniversary or that someone was dead. Both assumptions were wrong.

They asked me if I remembered an old song called ‘One More Night.’ I hummed a few bars to myself and told them that I did remember the song. They then asked me if I remembered who sang the song. I answered ‘Phil Collins.’ They then asked me if I remember the time I sang the song. I sat there racking my brain as I tried to figure out what the hell they were talking about. Then. It. Hit. Me.

Back when I was a young gal I had the brilliant idea of making my mother a present for an occasion that I do not remember. One of her favorite artists was Phil Collins. I decided, in my infinite young wisdom, to record myself singing one of his songs. Me, the girl with quite possible the most off key voice known to man, decided to enter a mall karaoke booth and record her puberty-changing voice singing a loved ballad that would forever remain on a cassette tape!

My parents found the tape as they were going through my mother’s old cassettes looking for songs to put on her IPod. Of course when they found it they felt the need to play the darn thing. And, that explains the uncontrollable laughter that kept appearing in the background. I begged her to throw it away as I realized that I was genuinely embarrassed for myself.
“Oh, honey. I could never throw away this lovely gift you made for me.”
“No, mother. You can just laugh hysterically at its contents!”
“I think I might pee myself”

Yes, my singing abilities were so awful that my mother lost all sense of bladder control. Thank God I got rid of the other tape where I felt the need to record one of the popular Elvis hits.

I wonder if its a parental responsibility to hang on to this crap for future use. I certainly hope someday that I have some of the same incriminating evidence for my own children. My hubby swears that Jacob will never be president due to all the naked pictures I have taken. It’s not my fault the child can’t keep his clothes on! Truthfully I feel the need to dig up dirt on my parents for a bit of revenge. No, I’m a good daughter. I’ll just plot my revenge for one more night…