Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Please leave...again

My parents are back. They left last Thursday morning to visit family in Germany. I'm not German though, and neither is my mother. My step-dad's aunt lives there, or rather her husband because she died.

They've been home for four and a half hours and they're already getting on my nerves.

"Should I turn off the internet?", step-dad asked before going to bed.

"No, I'm busy."

My step-dad has this obsession with turning off the internet when no one is using it. We have GD cable, you don't pay for the time the internet is on and we have a fucking router - it's meant to have the internet on 24/7.

"It's been up since last Wednesday..."


"It hasn't been turned off since."


"Since last Wednesday..."


Jezus Christ. Let it go. Control-freak.


“Aren’t you going to help us unpack the car?”

“I’m making myself tea, there only are like four bags and I’m standing in the kitchen in my underwear.”


“What do you expect me to do? Stop making tea, change into my clothes and help you unpack, which you should be done with by the time I’ve changed?”

“Yeah, Billy, you’re absolutely right.”


"Did you change the kitty litter?"


"When was the last time?"

"Yesterday morning."

"Well, it's gotten really dirty in such a short period of time..."


"I'm just saying."

"Why ask me, when you've already made up your mind about when and how I did or did not change the freaking kitty litter?"


"Did you vacuum before we came home?"





“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. There’s just so much hair everywhere.”

“Well mother, you do have four cats.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”


“Couldn’t you have done the laundry while we were gone?”

“I did.”

“So these clothes are all clean?”

“Well mom, the clothes in the laundry basket are clean and the clothes in the hamper are dirty.”

“So you did like one cycle?”

“No, actually I did three.”

“Then why are all these clothes sitting in the hamper.”

“Jesus mom, I didn’t do the last batch because it was not enough to do last night and you don’t want me to turn on the washer during the day.”

“Well, don’t you have an answer for everything Billy.”

Even my mom is stressing me out. Aren't vacations supposed to relax you? Take a fucking batch of valium and/or take your annoying asses back to Deutschland.

See, this is why I need a gun.

No comments: