Some Latent Irreverent Thoughts on a Parable

I've never understood the parable of the prodigal son. If you are not familiar with it, I will summarize:

Once there was a man with two sons. The older one was very responsible, always did what he was told, and never caused any problems. The other son was lazy, indolent, and selfish. Rather than waiting for his parents to die to spend all their money, he insisted that the father inventory all assets and give him his "due."

In 2017, we would call this son a millenial. 

So the youngest son takes all his parent's money and squanders it on drugs and prostitutes. When he finally runs out, he hires himself out, because what else is he going to do? Eventually, though, left to rot and starve, he comes to his senses. "I get it. I'm a complete failure. I'll go repent and beg forgiveness. I'll admit that I deserve nothing and I'll ask if I can just live and work as my parent's servant."

The father is so freaking glad to see him that he throws a massive party AND NEGLECTS TO EVEN INVITE THE OLDER SON. Dude hears the ruckus and has to ask a servant what's going on.

When he finds out this huge party is for his selfish, entitled, moronic younger sibling, he kind of freaks out on their dad. "Are you joking with me right now? I've done so much to try to help you out and make your life better. I've watched you wither away mentally and physically after this twatwaffle's behavior. And now you are not only inviting him to live with you, but you are actually celebrating him with what few dollars you have left? NO. THANKS."

The story ends with what I can only think of as biblical bullshit, get ready. "My son...you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found."

All right. Now here are some questions:

* What the heck is up with that ending? I get that the dad = God and it's supposed to represent rainbows and sunshine whenever a sinner repents. But on the literal level ARE YOU EVEN KIDDING ME.

* The dad runs out to greet the prodigal son before he knows the kid is even sorry. What's that supposed to mean? Because it looks like parents should be super happy when their fucktard children want to move back into their basement, regardless of whether said fucktards are even sorry. Like, "Oh yay!!!! You've taken my money, my health, my mental sanity, and my relationship with my other children! You may not even be sorry or plan to change at all, but please come move in with me and mooch off of me even more because at least you're alive and that makes me so happy!!"

* What was the siblings' relationship like after all this?

* The older brother gets screwed. I don't care if he "inherits" everything remaining after Dad dies. All the dad's attention and love have already been squandered on Twatwaffle. This is not a question, just an observable fact.

So there you go. That is a bunch of bullshit, my apologies to Jesus who was the original teller of this story. Was this story supposed to have a different literal meaning 2,000 years ago? Because for today, the meaning sucks.

TRIPPIN.

My sister and I are fantastic travel partners because we have nothing in common. For example, I am excellent at budgeting and saving and she is terrible at it (ergo, I end up paying for the lion’s share of our expenses). But she is excellent with street smart skills and I have none of those (so she ends up keeping us from being robbed and mugged).

I am also high-strung and she is very mellow, and this works well for us, too. For example, when we drove the Pacific Coast Highway from Portland to Santa Barbara, we agreed unanimously that I am a terrible driver and should not be allowed to steer us along a steep cliff for hundreds of miles.

We have even worked out a system for when one of us is being a dumb*** and annoying the other. Our signal came apropos of nothing and makes no sense, but if one of us reaches over and jam’s the other’s dangly earrings INTO her ears, that means shut up before I kill you.

Of course, our differences mean that we sometimes don’t see eye to eye. I spent weeks planning and researching our upcoming Maine trip. I printed out numerous maps, which I highlighted and made lists on. I created calendars of activity options for every day of our stay, along with pricing per excursion and notes on where to find the best lobster rolls for lunch. Lucy rolled her eyes when she saw all this. Do you know what her ONE salient contribution to the trip was?

“Oooh, I know!!! Let’s buy big floppy hats to wear on the beach!!!!”

Comments like these make me want to do some earring jamming, but then something like this will happen and remind me that the playing field is even…

Elle: Here is a highlighted list of hotels, complete with price-per-night and average user rating.

Lucy: You rented us a hotel with no breakfast last time, don’t do that again.

Elle: (loud sigh). How about this one? They have waffles. Read me my credit card number, it says they only have a couple rooms left.

Lucy: (reads number)

Elle: Man, we’re saving a hundred bucks by using this website I’ve never heard of! Sweet! What’s the CVV number on the back?

Lucy: WAIT. You’ve never heard of the website you’re putting your credit card information into? Do you think perhaps we should find out if it’s legitimate first?

Elle: It came from Expedia, I'm sure it's fine (types website into Google) WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s all over the Internet for being a shady company that steals your money! Who knew!?

Lucy: EVERYONE. LITERALLY EVERYONE KNEW.

Weed.

Sometimes I walk outside into my backyard and think, “DAMN! Somebody is really letting this lawn go to pot. Bunch of rednecks!” Then I realize that I’m the homeowner and it’s me.

I really hate lawn maintenance, and also my lawn is straight violets with nary a blade of grass in sight. So really, what’s the point?

Because grass is boring and so is lawn-mowing, I decided to focus my outdoor efforts on growing flowers instead. I think what I lack in skill, I more than make up for in enthusiasm. Already, I’ve been so enthusiastic that I’ve killed several things.

You know of my recent unsuccessful efforts to “garden”the maple tree in my front yard. That was all an accident. Then I pruned some spruces by the front porch so much that I ended up pruning them right out of the ground, roots and all. Turns out, I have no idea what pruning is.

After that, I moved onto the legit weed-trees in my backyard. They were taller than the telephone wires!

But I think the trick to gardening is stupidity. If no one tells you that you cannot dig out a ten-year-old weed-tree, then you just assume it can be done. And if one can be done, then three can be done, and so on.

That’s how I gardened the crap out of multiple weed-trees like this:  

Yeah. In your face, Martha. I could barely even drag that sucker to the curb by myself!

Then I decided I needed some flowers and bushes to spruce things up a bit. I bought a pound of flower seeds and generously dumped them all over the backyard. That did virtually nothing, so I called Ma. She said, “I think it would be a nice idea to plant wildflowers to give things some color until you really sit down and plan out your garden.”

Plan out your garden! Haha! That made me laugh. I just buy lots of things and stick them in dirt. Then I water them until they die and then I dig them up (usually about 3 weeks later) and buy new things and stick them in dirt. Lather, rinse, repeat.

It starts out like this...

...and I get really proud of myself and my gardening abilities. Like, look at me, I can grow ranunculus!!! I'm practically a magician!!!

But before you know it, it devolves into this...

...and I find out that I drowned everything.

So it’s back to the garden supply store. Around the time of my 4^th hydrangea purchase, the garden supply people took to asking, “Now, do you know what to do with this?”

I kind of feel like that’s a vote of no-confidence.

Excuse me. I’m basically a professional. I have now spent so much money buying rakes, shovels, axes, flower seeds, shrubs, dirt, fertilizer, watering cans, and plant containers that I literally have to have a second job just to continue being a gardener.

But I will persist.