So if Ernie was my earliest role model, and his skits were all about domestic situations with his live-in male partner, maybe my earliest model of a positive relationship involved cohabiting with a gay man.

I am starting to think that parents really need to put conscious thought into what their kids are experiencing as their consciousness begins to open.

By the way, I called my mom yesterday just to say hi and to tell her about Snoopy Come Home. She asked why I was calling and I told her I was "longing for her" (it's a Chinese phrase that means, I was thinking of you, but the connotations are wickedly romantic so I always find it funny to say it to my mom because she blushes). She said, "Why, we always fight." I told her, because we're in different cities so this is the perfect distance for us to appreciate each other.

She told me about how her older brother sent them (his brother and sisters) an email about how life is short and it's about letting go of bad memories and just enjoying each other's company. "So you should stop bringing up all the things I did wrong when you were a kid and just look at the good times now."

I started laughing. I guess now would not be a good time to bring up my revelations regarding Snoopy Come Home.

I also realized she must still be stinging over some past conversation about my childhood.

That night before I drove up to Seattle, when we had dinner with Aubrey, Candice and Rie, Candice leaned over and said she notices that both Michael and I call our mom "Jean" instead of "Mom." (We both call our dad, "Dad.") I started laughing. "It's because she doesn't answer to Mom. Watch this."

My mom is sitting right across from me, talking to Rie.

"Mom."

She doesn't even blink, continuing the conversation.

"Mom."

Their exchange ends and she goes back to eating, her eyes glazed as she stares off into space.

"MOM," I say, louder.

She doesn't respond. Then less loudly, "Jean."

Her eyes snap to focus and she looks up immediately. "Yeah?"

Candice and I laugh. "See!" I said. "It's because people at work call her Jean. So she doesn't relate the title 'Mom' to herself. She's a good mother, just a bit negligent about her identity in that role."

My mom just kind of laughed, embarrassed. She's really good-natured because I'm a prankster and she's usually my favorite prankee, but later, Rie asked if my mom's feelings were hurt, because she thought they were. I didn't think so, but maybe they were. My mom isn't on a first name basis with her feelings.

She always takes that childhood stuff so personally, so defensively, about whether or not she was a good mother. I think it stems from the guilt she carries about my brother. I really wish she would talk to someone and come to terms with it, because it doesn't have to be such a hot button. I think for me, I'm not bringing up childhood things to blame her but to understand it, where I came from, what combination of influences made me who I am today. And also to clean out the closets of hidden things and emotions that need to be released. Air it out to let it go. But it's hard for her and I to talk about my childhood without it erupting into an argument. Usually, we'll hit on something and she gets defensive and denies something, and I'll get mad that she's not having a civil discussion, or that she's denying my feelings at the time. And then because I want her to acknowledge that what happened in the past hurt and she won't, those hurt feelings now become hurt feelings compounded in the present.

I believe this is quite a common dynamic between adult children and their parents. But I still think bridging the past as adults with understanding paves the way to a tighter-knit future.

I wish she wouldn't feel so guilty about things. Parenthood is really hard. It's not about what you did wrong, it's about what you do right. Both Michael and I turned out exceedingly well. We both definitely march to the beat of a different drummer, but the comment we get the most often from people who meet us is that we were raised right. And at least in my opinion, one of the best things you can do about the other stuff is look back and be able to laugh at it or be philosophical.

Mom, we had perms. If we can't laugh about that, what can we laugh about?