Please tell me my mom slept with the postman to get me.

I had to drop some stuff off at my folks house yesterday. I knew I shouldn't have because these people never cease to amaze me at times. I get there & my mother is cursing out the telephone again (trust me when I say that when it comes to my swearing: I don't lick it off the grass-it's an inherited trait.) I'm tired of it. This has been going on for MONTHS! I packed her into my car & off we went to Target. We found one with an answering machine, speakerphone, & a second handset. So we purchased that & headed back home to set it up. My parents are by no means dumb. In fact, my father is so smart that it's painful & my mother works in pharmaceutical research traveling around monitoring sites. But they have both fought technology as much as they possibly could & depend on me to do as much for them as possible. But I digress from the original intent of this posting. I get the phone system set up & I record the outgoing message because, well just because. I should have said Spivey Mortuary services on it, but you know what? They'd probably get repeat calls requesting services so I didn't want to take any chances with that. Let's just say, been there, done that, lived through THAT mistaken drunken dial recorded effort once before (I had to change my number to unlisted for a while after that. NEVER assume you can record your outgoing message after several tequila shots-just don't do it). I hear my father calling out to me from another room asking me if I have my phone on me. Let's see-since my parents constantly accuse me of having my cell phone permanently attached to my ass then the answer here would be yes. He wants me to take a picture of him with my phone and email it to him. I shudder at the thought of this. You see, some months ago I updated both of my patents cell phones & mistakenly bought them ones with cameras in them. They spent half a day having "camera wars" & taking photos of each other around their house when they least expected it, of the dogs, of the cats, of anything that amused them. I so need to turn that feature off on theirs. But they don't know how to send them anywhere which is good! I told them that it is very expensive to send them. LOL. I had to. Their phones are on my plan & they'd kill me with the games these two play. So back to my story now. My father comes out of his room dressed in an old orange snowsuit of his holding his passport up & holding on to my mom's travel suitcase. You know you want to ask about this right? Yes I live in Florida, & that snowsuit is an old one of his from when we used to allow that man to go deer hunting (with his side of the family up in North Carolina). But you are wanting to know why he's wearing it & why he wanted this pic taken. The gist of it is this, my mom has to travel all over the US & Canada for work. Well with the new travel laws implemented as of this year, she needs a passport to get back in to the US from Canada. She's been trying to get one for 7 months. 7 MONTHS. Nice huh? My dad applied for one in December & it came on Friday of last week. Can we say my mom is just a wee bit pissed? So my dad wanted this pic taken so he can email it to my mom's regional manager to tell her he's ready to go in my mom's place to Canada since my mom can't go. Nice huh? Have I failed to mention that we live on an Island (of sorts- but it is an Island like Manhattan is an Island) and we don't usually let him drive off the Island. He hates to fly alone because he gets confused at how fast the world zips by him. And I had the stroke huh? My mother called him several choice names yesterday so I know I come by my foul language use naturally. But please tell me she slept with the mail man to get me. Dear God tell me I am NOT related to this man. My oldest sister-in-law tells me I'm just like my older brother: physically we look alike & our temperaments are the same. My excuse is that my folks moved around a lot while my dad worked for GE & that the mailman or the UPS man kept following my folks cuz he liked my mom. I hope so.