My brother finally told the parents about the break up, saving me from uncomfortable explanations of why I changed our accommodations in Chicago from a one bedroom suite for the three of us to a swanky hotel for them and an air mattress for me at my brother's apartment. Thank goodness because I'm a terrible liar. I manage to hide things well, but faced with a direct question from a person, short of running away, I usually just blurt out the truth so that my head won't explode.
Within a few hours of my brother's revelation, my parents called me last weekend and the conversation went something like this:
Dad: Hi! Are you coming home to visit this weekend? Did your brother and his girlfriend break up?
Me: Yes I'm coming over for lunch and uh... did you talk to him?
Dad: Yes, he told us they broke up.
Me: Well... then I guess they did!
Dad: Ok, hold on, Mom has some questions for you.
Mom: Hi honey, did you know? When did you find out? What happened?
Me: Hi mom, I have no idea. He hasn't returned my calls. You know about as much as I do.
Mom: Well, he explained to me what happened, but it was all in English and I don't understand him very well. It was "something something personal something something..."
Me: Hahaha
Mom: That's ok, we'll be able to ask him in person next weekend!
I'm sure my brother can't wait for the family inquisition tonight. I recounted the conversation to him and we had a good laugh. He told me "when I tell things to Mom, I try to obscure the English words to her."
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