My parents are coming to NYC this weekend to watch my baby nephew while my sister and brother-in-law are in Philly for a wedding. Steph asked if I have any friends who babysit so that Mom and Dad can go to dinner Saturday night (in true Mom and Dad fashion, they have failed to realize that they ARE the babysitters).

Me: “I don’t have any friends who babysit, but if they want to go to dinner, I’ll watch the baby for a few hours.”
Steph: “Um…I’m sure they want to go to dinner with YOU.”
Me: “Oh. Shit. I didn’t even think of that.”
Steph: <no expression whatsoever, but definitely wondering what’s wrong with me>

Cue Jewish guilt. OF COURSE they want to go to dinner with me. What kind of daughter am I?!? The WORST. That’s what kind.

Mom calls a few hours later. I try to sound casual, like I figured all along we’d have plans…

Me: “Hi! So…we’re going to dinner Saturday night?”
Mom: “What? No. Dad and I are going out with our friends.”