Are all moms certifiably insane just by virtue of being moms? Or is it just my mother? I called my mom just to chat and see how she and my dad were doing. She told me my black sheep brother called them.
On the subject of my black sheep brother, it's impossible to ever say anything right. My parents have always had the attitude that I'd better be on their side, not his. Needless to say, my brother isn't the only one that needs to grow up.
Whenever they tell me anything he did or said, it's practically entrapment. Like I said, nothing I ever say is right. They basically just wait for me to say something and then pounce on it and rant bitterly about him.
Whenever they tell me anything he did or said, it's practically entrapment. Like I said, nothing I ever say is right. They basically just wait for me to say something and then pounce on it and rant bitterly about him.
This time, when my mom told me he called, I thought I'd just go with a noncommital "mmm." Apparently even this expression is fraught with danger. My mother immediately seized on it and said, " 'mmm' ?? What, did you know he was going to call us? Did he call you first?"
I've been forbidden to talk to him, and every now and then they ask me if I've talked to him. Yeah, right, like I'm going to be stupid enough to admit it if I had. Sometimes though, I think they actually sound disappointed when I say that I haven't talked to him, because I guess they missed out on an opportunity to go off on yet another crazy long-winded sermon about how black-sheepy he is.
Here is another story to illustrate. My mother used to own a small grocery/convenience store. I often worked or just hung out there. I remember one day particularly vividly. I was around the tender adolescent age of 12 or 13, and a boy was in the shop buying stuff. He looked at me, and asked if I had a boyfriend. My mother, upon hearing this, flew into a rage and chased him out the door with a broom and threatened to kill him if he ever came back.
Here is another story to illustrate. My mother used to own a small grocery/convenience store. I often worked or just hung out there. I remember one day particularly vividly. I was around the tender adolescent age of 12 or 13, and a boy was in the shop buying stuff. He looked at me, and asked if I had a boyfriend. My mother, upon hearing this, flew into a rage and chased him out the door with a broom and threatened to kill him if he ever came back.
....yeah.
