I’m now on the East Coast, in my parent’s house, where I’m quickly reminded of what life would be like had I decided to move back home three years ago after graduating college. I’m pulling my hair out in reaction to my mother’s screeching voice and father’s bad temper, even though it is nice to stay in a large air-conditioned house and spend some time in my old bedroom.
The big benefit of staying here is the free food. Of course, if I lived here for real, the food would not be free as I’d have to contribute. Or at least I’d feel guilty if I wasn’t contributing and I had a job. I went out to a big dinner with the family last night in NYC and I ordered a nice fish dinner and wine. It was nice to not think about the bill.
But sans the financial benefits, I could not deal with living here. Within the 24+ hours of being in this house, my parents have already had about three fights. The more time I spend away from my mother, the more I realize that she really is crazy and annoying instead of just being a typical “mother annoying.” She’s nuts. She is obsessed with controlling everyone else’s life, down to what people are going to talk about. She even sometimes has a conversation FOR two other people. Meanwhile, my dad has absolutely no patience for her, and his hot temper is the first thing that comes out the second she says something stupid. Which is often. It’s not even what she says so much as how she says it. She doesn’t get that she constantly talks down to people because she just assumes everyone is thinking what she’s thinking and if they’re not then they’re being dumb. Crazy, real crazy. My poor dad, who isn’t innocent in the least, has worked his whole life to make money for her (and us, the kids) to spend and he’s, well, he’s been miserable for a long time. Sure, he has the house, a nice house at that. And two kids… we’re ok, I guess. But what else? Her?
Maybe someone could appreciate her. She’d do well with a boyfriend who wants to be controlled. There are guys out there who like that. Not my dad. He just snaps.