Parents suck

Today's quote: I have to tell the maid to buy diapers and get the pool boy to walk the dog? Can't I just make out with Kevin all the time? Being married sucks.

How am I supposed to deal with the most freaking insane parents in the world? They think that when they call me I'll just automatically drop everything to talk to them. Today, for instance, they called right when I was in the middle of cooking dinner. Three pots going on the stove, and the bloody phone rings. I go to pick it up, like an idiot, and it's my parents! I'm the idiot, because the phone I answered with is corded, so I'm a prisoner to the wall, while my stove is on, cooking merrily away without yours truly. My dad always calls me to ask how to do things, like what does this red blinking light on the fax machine mean, or how do you change the print options in the menu, etc. I don't mind helping anyone, but he always asks me how to do things that obviously require someone being there to know 1) what the hell he's talking about, and 2) what the hell he's talking about. Ugh. So I finally came to my senses and switched phones. By the time I got back to the stove, stuff was burning, or splattering away. I started swearing like a banshee because I got burned by two splatters, and my dad kept asking me why something looked like it didn't fit into the cd changer. Finally I lost my temper, and repeated for the third time that I wasn't there, I don't know why it didn't fit. Dad got really mad and said my attitude was shitty, and hung up on me. I really don't think my parents know the meaning of "reasonable."