Mom Is Going To Explode Before Neo-Tokyo

(As a fifteen-year-old, I love anime and frequently watch it with friends. This being the nineties, that means videotapes, usually from a mail-order or That One Weird Video Store. One night, when it is my turn to host, my family is watching a game on the main TV, so I snag the VCR and connect it to the TV in my room. Instead of three or four friends, only one — male — friend arrives. Fifteen minutes into the movie, my mom pops in:)

Mom: “Hey, kids, do you want some soda?”

Me: “No, thanks, we got some already.”

(Ten minutes later, she’s back:)

Mom: “We opened another bag of chips; do you want some?”

Friend: “Sure, thanks.”

(Fifteen minutes later:)

Mom: “We’re getting pizzas. Do you or [Friend] want anything in particular?”

Me: “Not if you’re getting the usual order.”

(Twenty minutes:)

Mom: “Here’s your pizza.”

Me: “We could have come down and gotten it ourselves, but thanks.”

(Once she’d left the last time, my friend burst out laughing so hard he was crying. I had no idea why my mom was being so solicitous until he explained that she thought we were, ahem, “watching anime,” wink-wink. The thought of taking advantage of my family’s distraction had never once crossed my mind — I mean, it was Akira. To this day, I’m not sure if Mom was hoping to catch us doing something or not. As evidenced by the above, I was a romantically oblivious teenager.)