Friday, 4:30pm, driving home from work
Received following text message approximately seven times before responding late Saturday evening:
Fisher Price: I need to ask you a question. (x7)
FP: Never mind now. Wanted you to meet my daughter.
Self: How in gawd’s name did he father a child? He practically has a vagina.
Self2: That wasn’t nice.
Self: Eye roll. Why don’t you go fuck him again then?
Self2: Why don’t YOU!
Self: Why am I splitting my personality?
Self2: Because you need material for therapy.
Friday, sometime at night, lying in bed not yet asleep, phone rings
Person I don’t know: What are you wearing?
Me: Old lady pants.
Me: Does your mother know you’re calling?
Person: Is this Stephanie?
Me: Does Stephanie wear old lady pants?
Person: Steph quit playing around.
Me: This conversation may be recorded for quality assurance.
Saturday 9:30am, sleeping peacefully, phone rings
Cousin K: Are you awake?
K: Great. Ok. So, we won’t make it to the church until around 10:30 – 11. We have a lot to do, but I’m running a little behind this morning.
K: So don’t rush...
Me: Mumble mumble, fuck off.
K: Thanks for offering to help! See you around 11!
Saturday, around 1pm, making and cutting sandwiches in church kitchen
Me: Why are we wasting all of this bread by cutting these sandwiches with stupid cookie cutters? There are starving cheerleaders at my house.
K: You can take all the bread scraps home if you want.
Me: I refuse to be THAT person...the bag lady...the one that loads up all of the leftovers and waddles away.
K: Ok. We can give them to Larry. (The goose)
Me: Fuck Larry.
K: We’re IN CHUCH. Could you not...
5 minutes later, two big grocery bags are STUFFED with sandwich scraps
Aunt D: What’s in that bag?
Me: Your lunch.
Aunt D: What?
Me: Sandwich scraps. Wasted bread and turkey and pineapple and cream cheese....
Aunt D: I’ll take it. (Picks up bag and waddles away.)
K: (looking at me) Don’t say a word.
Me: Wasn’t gonna!
3 hours later, in kitchen cleaning up, scooping weenies into cup
K: Did you get any cake squares to take home for the kid?
K: What are you doing?
Me: Raiding the weenie pot.
K: But you wouldn’t raid the sandwich scraps?
Me: Nope. Weenies beat buns, hands down. (Grin)
K: Why do I even talk to you?
Me: (stuffing weenies in mouth) Dunno.
Monday, The Grandmother’s house, just arriving, walking up path to door
Me: There’s a baby squirrel in front of the steps! Look!
Mom: Squeal, squeal, annoying rabies rant.
The Kid: I wanna see! I wanna see!
TG: (looking through screen door) I’ll kill it! Nasty things!
Baby squirrel huddled against the bottom step staring at loud humans with wide, fearful eyes.
Me: Aw, no Grandma! You can’t kill it! It’s just a whittle baby!
Climbed stairs and faced TG.
TG: (mean face) Well, you can just take it home with you and cuddle it then!
Me: (eyes narrowed) Are you going to be nice today or do I have to leave?
TG: (looking sheepish) Yes! I’m going to be nice to you today! I even wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget!
Me: You had to write down....to remind yourself...to be nice to me?
TG: (entirely serious expression) Yes.
Everyone else: laughing
Self2: Now THAT is a therapy moment.
Yer So Bad
6 days ago