It started innocently enough-I’m playing on the computer, trying to make ringtones with a new program, my phone rings in the middle and I let it go to voicemail. It’s my Mom, “Hi Call me when you get the chance”. I hate to even put this in writing-but I have gotten to the point where I hate to call. When I do, I only hear about, Ronnie and his kids and Donny. Rarely about Darren.
When Dad had his knee replacement surgery a couple of months back, he was having a hard day (Ok-he was being a childish ass and wanted to go home on Friday, but couldn’t because he wasn’t doing what they had told him to do and he had to stay longer). Anyway, Mom had asked me to call him, so I did and he was horrible and mean. Me:”Hi Dad, How are you doing?” Dad, “I just wish everyone would leave me the hell alone.” Fucking great. that can be arranged. I tried to keep the conversation light and positive and asked if he was going to watch any Nascar races that day, and he told me that there weren’t any and there was nothing to do. There damn sure were, and I’m not taking part in this pointless pity party so I got off the phone after a few minutes.
So, back to tonight. I return Mom’s call and I get to hear about Pam’s (my brother’s Ex wife that they have some twisted on again off again relationship.) daughter Tiffany. It seems that she has a 6 year old who is getting pubic hair. I explain that is isn’t that uncommon because of all the hormones they pump into everything these days. Poor child is going to have to go through testing, blah, blah, blah. I talk about the event I went to last Friday night and Mom tells me that Donny came out and brushhogged the field.
I ask how Dad is doing and if he still has the physical therapist coming out and Mom says, he’s sitting right here, talk to him. So Dad gets on the phone and literally starts bitching me out because apparently he liked me alot better before I had grandkids (whatever the fuck that means) because every time I call Mom and I are on the phone forevger. We have been on the phone for over a half an hour rehashing our weeks, bitch, bitch, bitch. Good thing we aren’t facetiming-I wanted to cry. I tell him that can be rectified and I will talk to him later and to have a great week. Mom gets back on the phone ans starts telling me about her new pressure cooker that cooks beans in a half hour while I try to swallow this big lump in my throat. Then she tells me that she had better get off the phone because dad wants to finish watching the cardinals game he has had it paused waiting for her. Why the fuck did she call me in the first place?
I really don’t need this shit. I have spent most of my life feeling like I was in the way. I like my life and I have gone to great lengths to get where I am, in SPITE of everything. You should be a positive influence in your childrens life and make them feel that you are proud of them and they are cherished. Right now, I kinda feel like something you scrape off the bottom of your shoe and I want to cry. I think I’ll wash my face and go to bed. Tomorrow is another day and believe me, it will be a while before I call my parents.