It was actually worse than that. I was playing piano for my mom when my dad and his friend Dani showed up. Dani is a server at the local tavern, and she and my dad hang out all the time. My dad likes her but she has a boyfriend, so they’re just friends.
Circumstances being what they were and politeness being required, the four of us sat around the living room and talked, and I played a few piano compositions of mine. In the presence of freakin’ company, my mom tried to convince me to visit with and get to know Li’l Sweetmeats, my sister’s baby daughter. My mom’s a master, but even in company, I held my ground and made it clear I’m not interested in getting to know Li’l Sweets, no matter how much she coos and gurgles and waves her little fists.
Discouraged, my mom tried to get me to discuss the kitties we had when I was a kid. [Facepalm.] My brother and I named them Cover and Nerak. I put them out to play one day, and they never came home. My mom’s reaction was to tell me that there was no point in looking for them, and that they’d probably been crunched under the tire of a car by now.
So my mom kept asking me questions, like, don’t you remember Cover and Nerak? And I kept saying, no, I don’t remember them. And my mom couldn’t let it go. Poor Dani, being trapped in the middle of this friendly jesting. My dad bought Dani a candy bar later. She earned that candy bar. According to my dad, Dani has served time in a women’s prison. Maybe that helped prepare her for the force that is my mother…? I sure hope so. Either way, she earned that candy bar. It was a Crunch bar, for anyone who’s interested in that sort of detail.
My mom wouldn’t shut up about how she fell and injured her brain, and now… wait for it… her life is ruined. (It was already ruined. Don’t feel sorry for her.)
Prior, while I was driving my mom to my house, we were talking about bullying, and I don’t remember how it came up, and my mom said, “It’s so awful what your coworkers did to you in Georgia. It’s just awful. Don’t you think it’s awful? Doesn’t it eat at your soul and destroy you? They were horrible.”
“I don’t like to think about it,” I said. (And you, dear reader, might think that was a good response, but it gave her feedback that she’ll use in the future. I should have blown it off like no big thing. I failed. Damn, damn, double bloody damn.)
“Of course you don’t. Mommy’s being a meanie. I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” (Another strategically wrong response. She bristled and doubled her efforts to hurt me.)
I just wrote her off yet again, like I did after my birthday in May. I sent her a series of emails outlining all these things she did wrong, and I said goodbye. This is really sad. She’s going to be heartbroken because she loves seeing me. Well! Ha.
Did you guys know there’s a web site that’ll pay you to lose weight? It’s called Healthy Wage. You pay into it monthly and, if you reach your goal weight after X months, they return all of your money to you with a profit amount. Wow.
I told my dad about it and he freaked out. “You’ve been spending money like a drunken sailor! Please don’t do it!”
As I folded my enormous pile of brand new LL Bean clothes, I asked what on earth he was talking about. I haven’t been spending money like a drunken sailor! But he hemmed and hawed and said he was worried about my finances.
So I said I wouldn’t do Healthy Wage if it was that important to him, and he offered to pay me $250 if I can lose 20 pounds. So there’s that.