In which Dad says ridiculous things

Introducing the parents to one of my committee members:
Me: Mom, Dad, meet Dr. W., he used to teach in Minnesota. Dr. W., Mom and Dad went to grad school in Minnesota.
Dad: Yeah, that was back when it only took four years to earn a PhD.

Picking up the bound copies of my dissertation:
Dad: Huh. Mine was longer.

Thanks to 3.5 years of therapy, I rose to neither bait.

Oof.

This weekend was lovely, really, but also incredibly long and tiring. Mom and Dad departed about 30 minutes ago, with the cat, and I was in the middle of a rather satisfying bout of hysterical sobbing when my movers called. Can they come pick up my boxes tomorrow instead of Friday? In exchange they'll help me pack them for free. Sure! Why the hell not?

I've got all this stuff to mentally and emotionally sort through, about getting hooded, and family baggage I figured out this weekend, and departure baggage, and endless navel-gazing I was all set to indulge in while sitting on the couch in my pajamas (not to mention lamenting the departure of my baby - I am the crazy cat lady after all). Instead, I'll be sorting and folding and wrapping. Who wants to come over and drink three day old keg beer and help a girl out?