… though, at this rate, I may just have to strangle them all in their sleep.
Mum came this morning to visit. After a nap, she immediately started criticizing every. single. bloody. thing. in the house. How we were storing unused items. How dirty the floor was. Why were the china and pots and pans all stored together? Why were there dirty dishes stacked on the counters?
How about because we’ve been working our asses off doing things like weeding, hauling crap off to the dump/ yard refuse place, and moving shite out to the storage shed.
Dad and Emmett finally concocted an excuse to escape (I decided to do laundry). Then, whilst weeding she managed to throw dirt and weeds on my head at least 3 x I can recall. Carelessness or passive aggressive?
I kept snapping at her, because a headfull of dirt isn’t my idea of fun. She kept telling me not to take it personally. Right. Arguments ensued.
Over dinner (which should have been nice), she and Dad started arguing. I ordered a cease-fire, both parties ignored me, and kept snapping and snarling.
I decided to ignore them both and cast on another test pair of spox (this time for the “alternate” pattern), until Mum finished her meal and we left. I then shoved the yarn and needles into my bag (bad, bad idea) only to seriously regret it later. It took me over 1/2 an hour to create order from the chaos and start knitting.
At least I finally got my bath, right? (If we ignore the fact that I had to scrub the tub out twice, because Mum had plopped the grouting bucket down in it, creating a nice, gritty mess)
As I said, I think I love my family.
[P.S. Emm got an iPod today (finally!!) and of course spent the day walking around with his headphones in, trying to talk to people whilst listening to music. He’d also announce at odd moments what he was listening to, and why it rocked.]