My Dad and I speak this cool African language. It's the clicking language, you know? The one from The Gods Must Be Crazy. We're fluent in it, actually. We put our hands on each other's shoulders and click away and have whole conversations. It's great.
Also, my parents are cool because the take my weirdness into stride. Case in point: I just greeted my father with the words, "Greetings, Favored One. The Lord is with you." He nodded, shrugged, said, "hmm.. thanks," and went on his merry way. Cool.