Yesterday I walked over, 3kms all the way still, just missed the storm.
Fixed up whatever she confused them about at the chemist. I really don't know which chemist she rang but they didn't have a record of her request.
Shower, check.
Wash clothes, check.
Move videos to make space for DVDs, check.
Make lunch, bombed. She didn't like the sugar I put on the ham and cheese. Mustard you stupid bloody woman, mustard.
Shop, custard, bananas, ice-cream, the basic food groups. Forgot the milk, bugger.
She has the basic food groups and that will do for tea.
Good fortune, I get a ride home and save taxi fare.
6.30 she rings.
When do I get my tea? I need a meal to take my pills.
Apparently the basic food groups were afternoon tea not evening tea.
Sis has done an early shift straight after a late shift so she's in bed and I wouldn't let mum ring her. She only needs toast to take the pills.
An hour later the BrickOutHouse comes in and no sooner has his foot in the door than she starts.
We have left her to starve.
His mother is too lazy to get off her back and make her a meal.
I have gone to the pub (I wish) and left her without food.
You'd think one of them would have thought of me and on it went.
This is not forgetfulness, this is blatant outright bloody lying to get attention.
I've been seething all day.
She's rung three times and I haven't said a word.
But I'm thinking of quite a few.
It's a sad thing to say but anything I do now is not out of love, it's just because I won't let her get the better of me.
And she's started on fckn Christmas already.
13 comments:
I get along with my Old Dear perfectly well. Then again, she's in her eighties, still bounces around like a mountain goat, is actively involved with every 'Ladies Guild' and 'Church Fete' going and brings me portions of her excellent spaghetti bolognaise round each week for my tea.
So I took your advice and stopped reading. Now I'll never know what I've missed.
I wasn't as smart as Brian and I kept reading :(.
I like my mother. On the other hand she does give me the irrits sometimes so I relate completely. And I definitely give her the irrits too. It could be enough to take another blog-post steal (ha!) - to do a whinge or maybe several whinges.
Today she rang me and said "Did you call me?" I said no. She said, "I thought you did." I asked why she didn't check her missed calls list to figure out who called her last. She said she hadn't time for such things, and she certainly hadn't time to answer the quick question I was going to ask her right then, but she did somehow have time to go into an in depth discussion, in painful detail about all the reasons why she didn't have time to talk to me at that point in time and the burdens and responsibilities she was put upon at work that took away from her freedom to make personal phone calls at work, right then.
Hmm-hmm.
Then there's the times when Mums will do things like beg you to watch a film with them, even though you'd really rather be elsewhere, then fall asleep a third of the way through it, sometimes snoring. You try to gently waken them, but it's no good, either they're fast asleep or they wake up only to fall asleep several minutes later. At the end they pop right up again and swear they watched it, only to say "It was about a lady/cop/lawyer ... err ... wasn't it ... and there was someone who got killed/married/lost ... and errh .... can you fill me in on the rest, I think I might have missed out on a bit, I might have closed my eyes just for a second ... but I was watching, I really was!"
Mums are funny, but in fact once you get past the pain it's quite ironic and amusing. If only you could be the observer, not the butt of the joke.
I must say my Mum can cook. Extremely well. And she's in excellent fitness for her age, which is always a lovely thing to recommend a Mum.
I'd dearly love to sit with you in person right now and have a good rant about old ladies. I'm going through this (albeit less vindictively) with someone who isn't my mother but nonetheless has a claim on my time and energy. It's utterly depressing.
Commiserations.
Christmas - thank god for new babies, we are begging off Christmas altogether (although people are welcome to leave special food parcels on the front door).
Mikhela come to Bingo City and I'lI make sure your double event gets announced, and by a caller (with bright red hair) who looks like Lucy from I Love Lucy. You'll see that Bingo City is chummy, a place where births deaths and divorces are a great crowd pleaser. (And the subject of gossip out in the smoking annex too, but you can't stop people doing that.) I've had my birthday announced there twice, and received loud applause, which is okay from people who know you, but extra lovely from strangers.
That's a frightening comment. It means the Hughes' have longevity. I think it's sweet that she's still feeding her baby boy.
Maria, you've got one that forgets the message service too. I get calls telling me to ring the phone company because the phone sounds funny. I make her hang up, dial 101and find out who's left a message.
I also get phone calls because she's left the TV guide in the lounge and she's in bed and when I've read every programme out, she says 'nothing much on tonight then'. Argggh.
Duckie, I think that would be worse because you really couldn't say anything, with her not being family. At least with a mother you can mutter things under your breath and accidentally break the crockery.
Mikhela, 4.30 today and I'll be thinking of you, not that you'll be reading blogs for a while. I'll be waiting for the first photo.
Rh, do you have any wins at Bingo? I'm not good with numbers and I don't think I could fill in the squares fast enough or if I did some little old lady would probably beat me up. They can be tough.
"I think it's sweet that she's still feeding her baby boy."
It's reciprocated in kind. Once every month I have to produce some poster or other for her Ladies Guild.
My sympathies, Jahteh. I recall my mother going through something similar with my Gran. It only lasted about 25 years.
Hughes, did they get you to produce their 'naked for charity' calendar this year?
Ladlitter, you're going to hell for that.
I'm reading attentively, relentlessly and empa-'k'n' - thetically on account of the premise of the title of your posting.
(Some mothers do 'ave 'em ... mainly on account of they didn't give their offsprogs a say in it at all.)
That's terrible, your Mother saying all those nasty things about you like that.
I can't imagine what it must be like because my mum was such an opposite experience... but I have known others who have it like you and always felt so sorry for them... don't know what to say...hang in there sounds trite... because you really have no choice at all in the matter... hope for a better day tomorrow okay.
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