When Parents Come To Town

Remember when you were that super angsty teenager who liked to stay at home and hang out with her parents all day?

That's not a thing? 

Oh. 

Well it was for me. If you all had Sandy and Shane's for parents you would all do the same thing. 

It can be a downside (if you can even classify it as that), because your social life involvinf youth of a similar age demographic goes down...drastically. But I could even argue that this is, in fact, a highly sought after perk in my book. 

So thanks to flight benefits and skiing, I have been able to spend several weekends in the presence of my very cool and laidback parents in the following fashion; 

When Dad Comes To Town 

We ski. 

And ski. 

And ski some more. 

Occasionally we ski too much and have to hobble into the lodge and get some sugar. And what is wrong with my eyes in this picture? I cannot quite pinpoint it, but I'm sensing a Quasimodo/Grim Reaper combo?

And back to skiing we go! With the sad little grass patches everywhere. Call Al Gore and tell him he finally convinced me on global warming. Pray for snow. 

We make a ruckus in dollar theaters and take pictures with flash. We are thoooossseee people. Guardians of the Galaxy. Hello! My type of movie. Mildly inappropriate jokes, dancing trees, and woodland creatures with semiautomatics. And that guy from Parks and Recreation. A plus plus plus plus. 

Did I say we wander? Well we do. Very aimlessly. 

We take pictures with 800 dollar indian dolls. Who looks more demented here? 

We eat other peoples food in fancy log cabins in Midway.

And we antagonize our soft hearted vegetarian relatives by sending them texts of this shirt. And then we buy it. Because nothing says MERICA more than a hunting t-shirt. 

When Dad comes to town we can talk openly about Taylor Swift;
"I just hope that Taylor Swift can find a good man to settle down with." -Shane Ostler

When Dad comes to town inappropriateness rises to new levels and people literally want to kick us out of their house.

When Dad comes to town I can't walk for days from so much skiing.

When Mom Comes To Town

Air hockey. It's like the faster paced, more ruthless version of Foosball. Which is quite unfortunate for me because my eye-hand coordination is quite shabby. The score of my mom and I: 10-1. Guess who won? 

Hey. Remember when I wrote that post where I talk about eating old candy off the ground? This popcorn just happened to be abandoned on the movie theater bench. And my mom and I ate it. It was oh-so-good and I haven't died of anthrax poisoning yet so I think we are good. 

That awkward moment when you realize that everyone can hear your smirks loud and clear during the world-famous acoustic demonstration at Temple Square. 

Eating Thai food in the hotel bed. For breakfast. With our hands. 

Watching my mom almost tumble to her death on this cliff. 

Indulging in overly pricey lodge food. 

SKIING

More skiing! 

We just can't stop skiing! 

And....Alex doing terribly at even more arcade games. And my smoking hot little bro. 

I do apologize for this extremely long photo-binge. But oh my goodness I do not apologize for how much fun I had. Mom and Dad, can you come back? Please???