Moms Behaving Badly II

After the remark about me giving her a snake, I knew it was going to be a long night. And it was. For every positive comment I'd make, she'd throw back two or three snotty comments. Nothing was right, nothing was good. She's SO put upon by every single thing that comes along. My new car? I showed her, and she peppered me with questions, which I had anticipated, and had answers for just about everything. She did catch me with "Does it have a remote door unlocker?" (no) "OH! Well! I love mine! Everyone should have one of those!" (well. I guess. I just think it's one more thing to go wrong.) and "It's a nice looking car, but it's awfully low to the ground, isn't it?" (She was really reaching on that one) I just told her it's the same as the other Volvo, but I like it. It seemed to make her madder that there was nothing she could really find wrong with the car.

Obbie and I really tried, though. He grilled the sausages, and as he served them, she said, "You didn't poke holes in them! You're supposed to poke them with a fork before grilling them so they don't explode!" "Sorry. I'll remember that for next time...." and on and on.

At 8:45, she announced it was time for fireworks. She wanted me to take us all up the hill in my car, (because she was TIRED from cleaning FOR HER GUESTS WHO WERE LATE) and didn't want to walk the 1/4 mile up the hill behind the house. "I have all the craft show tables & tent in the car. We can unload it, can't we Obbie?" He looked at me like I'd lost my damn mind. Which, basically I had. Anything to appease her and make her quit being so fucking RUDE. "NO! Never mind! We'll take MY car!" and she stomped out to the garage with the three of us meekly following behind. We drove up to the top of the hill and manuevered the car for optimum fireworks viewing. It was now 8:49, and the fireworks weren't to start until 9:00. So we sat, and she started bitching again. Talking about the new people in the town council, and how she didn't know where THESE people came from or HOW they got this job. The one man apparently has some dental issues, and she spent a very long time telling us how she's fixated on the brown spots on his teeth, and not what he was explaining to her. In the backseat Obbie and I kept poking each other, and rolling our eyes in the dark. She was just miserable, and bashing everyone she could think of. I'd seen her like this before, and it's just best to let her go, because nothing anyone could say or do would make her stop being like that.

Mercifully the fireworks began, and she stopped bitching long enough to watch. 20 minutes later, we're driving back down the hill for dessert. Ice cream and peaches. I reprogrammed her VCR again, (something she does messes up the time, and she won't reprogram it herself because "The directions don't make sense, and I don't understand." so she'll let it blink 12:00 for three months until I come down again to do it....

We got out of there around 10:45. Punch drunk, and twitching. Poor Obbie had only seen this version of Mom once and was positively appalled. We drove home, rehashing the evening, both amazed, pissed off and halfway amused at her hatefulness.

I'm still pissed off about it, and it's been done for a week. I only pray that I have enough of my Father's genes in me that I don't get hateful like her. It makes me sad that she feels she has to test everyone close to her and bash everyone else. I wish I knew why she did that, and what to do to make it better for her, but frankly, I don't have the energy, and if she content being a hateful person, thats her problem. There's only so much I can do.

On a side note to my Okie friends: I know most of y'all live in the greater Tulsa region, but I'm still thinking of you, and hoping that y'all are all right. Keep dry!