Family Circle
I just sent the email telling my dad that I won't be at the big June birthday bash. All three boys and the dad were born in June, throw Father's Day into the mix and suddenly you find a reason for a big party one Saturday in June. It happens every year at my grandparent's place at the river. I used to try to go every year, but I've started skipping it the last two years. My stepmother apparently hates me. The last time we were together, Christmas '05, she didn't speak to me or even make eye contact with me the whole time that Big Daddy and I were there. I don't know what her problem is with me, I really behave myself around her. There has never been any blow ups and really no reason why two adults can't be a little more friendly. But she makes it very apparent that she wishes that I would drop off of the face of the Earth whenever I come around. So I don't come around. The only thing I can think of is she's pissed because I have forgotten her kid's birthday for the last couple of years. But whatever, I make no associations within myself of him being my brother. As far as I'm concerned, he's just some little boy who calls my dad Dad.
I remember when they got married. I got an email that day informing me of the impending nuptials. It was just some random Wednesday afternoon in her living room, not a big affair by any stretch of the imagination. But I wasn't invited, just informed. I had just started dating Big Daddy, and I had checked my email from his house when I got the message. I remember sitting on Big Daddy's couch and crying my eyes out. It is really a wonder that he continued dating me after that. It was like that for the next couple of days. It was as if someone had died. I would be driving in my car or walking through the grocery store and just spontaneously break out into tears. After a few days I pulled myself together and dropped off a wedding gift on their front porch, a picnic basket that cost $75, which was about $70 more than I had to spend at the time. I did the right thing, right?
The problem with me also happens to be my greatest attribute. I always, always, always do the right thing. Well, unless I'm drunk, but that's another post. No matter what the situation is, I can step back, quickly analyze it, project the outcome of options A, B and C and end up making good choices and doing the right thing. Doing the right thing has been good to me and gotten me a good life. But the problem with doing the right thing is I spend 80% of the time being pissed off and disappointed in those around me who can't ever seem to make a good choice or do the right thing. It really does take a toll being perfect.
And since I always do the right thing, instead of being at the annual June birthday bash, I will instead be down at the beach shopping for a new oceanfront condo with my beach Realtor, who also happens to double as my mother. Because apparently the universe was going to insist that I spend the weekend with at least one of my parents.
And one more quick snippet from the "I always do the right thing" files.
You know I'm a gambler. And when I'm not in Vegas or Atlantic City flushing my money down the toilet, my local version of gambling is buying 5 lottery tickets every Tuesday and Friday. Apparently someone in the next county over from where I live, and the county where Big Daddy and I both work purchased a $44 million winning lottery ticket on Tuesday. I was in the bathroom applying deodorant Wednesday morning when Big Daddy came in and announced the news. To which I responded, I wonder if it is anybody that we know. And then simultaneously we both said, I hope not.
I remember when they got married. I got an email that day informing me of the impending nuptials. It was just some random Wednesday afternoon in her living room, not a big affair by any stretch of the imagination. But I wasn't invited, just informed. I had just started dating Big Daddy, and I had checked my email from his house when I got the message. I remember sitting on Big Daddy's couch and crying my eyes out. It is really a wonder that he continued dating me after that. It was like that for the next couple of days. It was as if someone had died. I would be driving in my car or walking through the grocery store and just spontaneously break out into tears. After a few days I pulled myself together and dropped off a wedding gift on their front porch, a picnic basket that cost $75, which was about $70 more than I had to spend at the time. I did the right thing, right?
The problem with me also happens to be my greatest attribute. I always, always, always do the right thing. Well, unless I'm drunk, but that's another post. No matter what the situation is, I can step back, quickly analyze it, project the outcome of options A, B and C and end up making good choices and doing the right thing. Doing the right thing has been good to me and gotten me a good life. But the problem with doing the right thing is I spend 80% of the time being pissed off and disappointed in those around me who can't ever seem to make a good choice or do the right thing. It really does take a toll being perfect.
And since I always do the right thing, instead of being at the annual June birthday bash, I will instead be down at the beach shopping for a new oceanfront condo with my beach Realtor, who also happens to double as my mother. Because apparently the universe was going to insist that I spend the weekend with at least one of my parents.
And one more quick snippet from the "I always do the right thing" files.
You know I'm a gambler. And when I'm not in Vegas or Atlantic City flushing my money down the toilet, my local version of gambling is buying 5 lottery tickets every Tuesday and Friday. Apparently someone in the next county over from where I live, and the county where Big Daddy and I both work purchased a $44 million winning lottery ticket on Tuesday. I was in the bathroom applying deodorant Wednesday morning when Big Daddy came in and announced the news. To which I responded, I wonder if it is anybody that we know. And then simultaneously we both said, I hope not.
@ 12:38 PM
2 Comments:
This was a very nicely written and enjoyable post.
So you're moving to the beach? You're leaving your [cigarette-named] jurisdiction?
My only suggestion, I suppose, is maybe if you got your step brother (I take it he is rather young if you refer to him as a little boy) a present of some sort, that would buy a lot of good will with your stepmother. And even if it didn't, he would like it and appreciate it. Just an idea. Just don't make it a picnic basket ...
It wasn't me that won, either. I was disappointed, but then again don't you actually have to buy a ticket to win? Oh well.
Great post on your stepmother. I applaud you for trying to do the right thing, because I would probably have gone postal over the whole Christmas thing and how she ignored you. That's just rude.
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