2001-04-11 - 3:15 p.m.
I tried to put this entry in before, let's see if it works a second time.
TAKE TWO:
My boyfriend's mother called here last week wanting to take us somewhere and treat the kids to some little carnival thing with rides going on near her house. Well, I must have portrayed enough bitchiness and homebodiness, cuz my boyfriend never brought it up again after I complained that I'd rather she just give whatever money she felt like spending so I could buy some food. I hate when we are behind on bills and I don't let myself have any fun until they are paid. So. The next day she called and I didn't answer the phone (I'll explain why in a minute) so she left a message and she was basically inviting us to her pool at her condo place so the kids could go swimming. I writhed in agony at the thought. UGH. Okay, here I go bitching again...
REASON 1: My kids are little and can't swim.
REASON 2: They don't have floatie wings and the little ones don't even have a bathing suit. (My oldest one does.)
REASON 3: My luck, there would be no food to eat (when she mentioned the carnival she said she would treat us to hot dogs and hamburgers--YUM. NOT. 2 things I happen to avoid at all times).
REASON 4: My baby takes naps throughout the day, and there would be no place I could leave him to take a nap, and in turn I would slowly be driven crazy by having to hold him all fucking day long and him being cranky, and let's face it, I will not have a very pretty tan line after I've held him all day.
REASON 5: If we did venture inside her condo, I just know every motherfucking thing up in that place is breakable and all my kids would take turns trying to touch it all.
REASON 6: I'm just not up to it. So sorry.
So, then there's this OTHER mother who calls who is also not mine. It is Jimbo's best friend, Mike's mother, Marsha. Sigh. Jimbo refers to that Mike character as his brother, so he refers to Marsha as his mother. It's very nervewracking, cuz then, suddenly, I become everyone's in-law.
No, no, no. Can't do.
Well, she called last Friday night, and I was like, hi, Jimbo is sleeping. Well, then she acted like, I, too, was best friends with her son. No. I. Am. Not. "Well, have you seen him?" "Did he make it to work with Jimbo?" "Did they ride together in the same car?" "Did he leave to come back home after work?" I DON'T KNOW. "Well, does Jimbo know?" JIMBO IS SLEEPING. "Doesn't Jimbo tell you what's going on?" IF I REALLY FUCKING CARED HE PROBABLY WOULD. No, I didn't say that to her, but I would have liked to. So. You can fucking understand why I don't answer the phone. I've even outgrown my habit of *69-ing everyone who doesn't leave a message...I just DON'T care enough anymore. I'm over it.
I have one mother that is my own. She is the only one I will give credit to as far as being my mother. She deserves credit, because she also had to act as my dad on many issues. That is my mother, not everybody fucking else. THE END.
