Mom and Dad
when they brought me home from the spca, mom and dad set me up in the wine cellar with a mattress and a case of glade air freshener. mom prefers the neutralizer fragrance because it works directly toward the source of the odor. personally, i’m partial to lilac spring, though tropical mist has a nice, fruity scent.
other than being allowed to take an occasional pine-sol bath, i don’t get invited into the house very often. this probably has something to do with the fact that the last time i sat down with my parents for dinner, one of the stitches on my face popped and a piece of rotting tissue fell into my mother’s homemade gazpacho.
for the most part, mom and mad have been great – though my mom still lets out an occasional scream and runs away when i try to give her a hug. and dad keeps dropping not-so-subtle hints about the stench of my rotting flesh and wondering aloud if i wouldn’t be happier in a zombie shelter.
so i spend most of my time sitting in the wine cellar on my mattress, drinking wine and watching cable on the 32-inch television my parents had installed. it could have been worse. i could have ended up imprisoned in a zombie zoo or exploited on a reality television show. i’ve heard “zombie nanny” is the worst, though apparently “zombie survivor” runs a close second.
sometimes i feel guilty about what i’ve put my parents through, but it’s not like i reanimated on purpose. still, i appreciate what they’ve done for me. they could have left me at the spca. i guess that just proves that you never stop being a parent, even after your son comes back from the dead.
