Queen of Rambles

It seems the women of my family can throw good temper tantrums. I forgot just how well I can scream and yell and stomp. I never have occasion to do more than raise my eyebrow at Mike. We are quiet folk. In fact, we hate noise so much that we always have the closed captioning on the TV so we can keep track of what’s going on.

It took a week, but I’ve finally flipped my lid when dealing with my family. My grandma just gets on my last nerve and I try to be the bigger person and let her words roll off my back but it’s difficult when every word out of her mouth is an accusation, a lie or utter non-sense. Yesterday the situation became critical. We were sitting around my sister’s deck, eating burnt pizza and ice cold watermelon when my grandma started telling us that the only names you can name a baby are Glenda, Royce are Gary. They are the ONLY names in the world that people can’t make fun of. They are the ONLY names. The ONLY NAMES. I don’t know why it irritated me so much, but I came very close to throwing a jar of pureed Apple Mango Kiwi at her head. Instead I just started yelling at her to shut up. I am so sweet and demure.

Then my sister got on my case for not letting Erik have a Popsicle. She really wanted him to have it and I really wanted him not to have it and I am the mom so he didn’t get it. I went into the house to get a glass of water and happened to glance out the window. The boy? He was sucking on a Popsicle. I bellowed my sister’s name and stomped out the door with more force than King Kong. My sister was scared. My grandma was scared. My dad was scared. Turns out my sister was innocent. The little 18 month old boy who lives with my sister had given it to E. Whoops. No need to throw a temper tantrum.

I hate being a bitchy, naggy, yelling monster. My family brings out the worst in me. I have to go home soon.

I’m over at my sister’s again today because I didn’t know where else to go. My grandma drives me crazy. My sister’s house is always in a state of chaos. My parent’s house contains my dad. My dad was the recipient of a fit this morning. We had a long list of things we need to get done and I wanted to get going before E’s naptime. I talked my dad into taking a shower but couldn’t talk him into wearing clean clothes. Then I couldn’t get him to get off his fat ass and into the car. I finally yelled that I was leaving and not coming back, so here I sit, in the middle of my sister’s chaos. I want to go home to my clean, quiet, pretty apartment and my husband who helps me do things. I miss my life.

And now I have to go cut up three watermelons for my sister’s big party tomorrow. She’s sent out 40 invitations to her kid’s combined 1 & 2 year birthday party.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 14th, 2006 at 1:46 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.