So I have been back in my house for about a month now and for two weeks it was wonderful. Not perfect - I had no kitchen nor any running water downstairs and my brother (whom I'll call Bro) was with us - but it was still home and better than where we were. Then, about a week and a half ago my Mother (whom I'll call Flo - yes it's her real name and no I don't anticipate any liability nor privacy issues) arrived. And my home bubble has burst.
I know you are thinking how bad could it be? It has been annoying, frustrating and disgusting (as you will soon see). Sure, feel free to analyze and tell me perhaps a shrink and a couch would help me a bit, but in the meantime I am suffering from having her in my home and I don't know how I will survive the at least two months until their house is done (their slowness in fixing their house is fodder for another post). Yes, I have lived with her before for an extended period (in addition to childhood) when my home was being renovated the last time - and that sucked too and it was by choice.
Mealtimes are enough to make me twitch. We have no kitchen and rely upon canned goods and takeout for the most part right now. We get Chinese and we have to get her pizza because she won't eat Chinese (my brother has conveniently removed himself from all of this as he is no longer ever hungry at meal time, having already eaten - when she wasn't staying with us he ate with us all the time). Then we get pizza which she does not want because she had it when we had Chinese. So, I offer a meatball hero (it comes with a family package) which she tells me she'll eat but then when offered turns it down as she has realized it "came from a different place than she thought and she won't eat meatballs from a place she has never had them before because she won't know if she will like them." If you are thinking "huh?" right about now I don't blame you. So we give her the baked ziti that also came with the meal (and which was supposed to be our next night's dinner, but hey we are kind and don't want her to starve). She has about three bites of it and won't eat anymore because it isn't really hot (but she won't microwave it either because it doesn't taste right ). By the way, if you are forming a picture of a selective gourmand with high food standards, let me crush that by telling you the only cheese other than American she likes is Velveeta. I am starting to re-think the part about not letting her starve.
At this point we have bought her dinner for about five nights (and she has rejected or complained about half of them) in a row. The next night Big Guy is with Mini-Me the Elder at her softball game and it is just me and the younger in the house with Flo and Bro. Flo proceeds to announce that she is going out to get dinner for her and the Bro. I waited but the offer to pick up something for me (you know the person who has fed her for five nights straight rather than let her starve) does not come. Um okay. Not to get into too much of a tit for tat but seriously? Who would not offer to pick you up something in this situation? Shoot that should just be common courtesy.
But none of this compares to the dog poop incidents (yes, that's right - incidents - plural - involving dog poop). For those who remember way back at the beginning of this blog, their dog Mookie is staying with us as well. She was with us in my sister's apartment and is now in my house. During the brief period in the apartment when Flo was with us, we had an incident in which she picked up after the dog and for some reason chose to not throw out the um, bag of shit in the garbage pail outside but rather to bring it into the apartment and put it on a chair in the kitchen. In the kitchen! I responded to this rather strongly and laid down the law that poop that is made outside stays outside. This seemed a pretty straightforward rule and not unreasonable I might add.
Fast forward to a week ago and Flo's return. Not three days into her stay here and guess what? Dog poop in the kitchen. Walked the dog, picked it up and brought it into the house, put it on top of my brand new corner cabinet which is waiting to be installed and then left it there to be found by Big Guy the next morning. It was in my house overnight! Again, I found myself explaining to an adult that poop that is made outside stays outside. There are trash bins out there - use them!
These are just examples of the day in and day out behavior that comes from living with Flo and I need to do it for at least two months. To sum up, you buy her dinners she doesn't like and won't eat, she won't buy you dinner in return, and she leaves dog shit in your kitchen.
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