My Parents Are Clowns: Research And Development Begins

Part three of a series that started here

My parents didn’t become clowns and rest on their laurels.

Clowns and PVC pipe. Nothing good can come from this. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

They were active and spent a lot of hours doing charity visits. Time went by and they kept gluing on their noses, hopping in the (normal sized) car and driving off to clown gigs. There was no sign of them slowing down on the clown thing.

In fact, there were signs that the clown thing was picking up speed.

The House Becomes ClownLab

A lot of experimental clown work went on in the house.

When I came in to the house, I might find everything normal. Or I might walk in and find them at the kitchen table, experimenting with changes to their clown faces. I eventually got used to that happening.

I didn’t really get used to walking in, seeing what was going on and saying things like “Mom, Dad, this is Carolyn. Carolyn, meet my parents Baloney and Salami.” But like a lot of things, it was a bigger problem for me than it was for Baloney, Salami or anyone who filled the Carolyn role. Read the rest of this entry »