Parents

My mom snaps away with her camera phone, uses phrases like "for reals?", rocks out to contemporary music, and even wears Vans. My dad uses an MP3 player and portable DVD on a daily basis, and has more style than George Clooney. Both of my parents are computer literate and e-mail savvy. Case in point: They are very (very!) Americanized immigrants. Afterall, what choice do you have after living in California for more than 20 years (the southern end at that).

But sometimes, like today, they say things that remind me of the fact that English is their second language.

Mom: I want to help them [the old people] reh-mee-niece.
Me: Reh-mi-niss.
Mom: Reh-mee-niece.
Me: No mom, reh-mi-niss.
Mom: Reh-mee-niece.
Me: You're still saying it wrong. Reh-mi-niss.
Mom: Reh-mi-niss.
Me: Yay, you said it right.
Brother: What are you guys doing?
Mom: Reh-mee-niece.

And then later on in the evening.

Me: Goodnight dad!
Dad: Goodnight anak. Did you watch that DVD I gave you?
Me: No, I had my nose stuck in a book all day.
Dad: You're like me, you love to read.
Me: Yep.
Dad: But there's never enough time. Essence is the time.
Me: You mean, "Time is off the essence."
Dad: (laughter) You're right.

Oh I love them.

I still remember the time my mom came home from work showing off the new things her (much younger and male) coworker taught her. She came home and yelled, "Fifty dollars makes you holla!" I was mortified. Still am.