Wednesday, July 27, 2011
The Wheels on the Bus Go…
You got it… Round and Round. This is my life; summed up with one preschool song. Hell, I’m not even sure if it is a preschool song; maybe it’s just a Simpson’s song? Either way, we go around and around. The difference being that unlike the bus, I never quite get anywhere.
We have had a quiet week since the tent issue on Sunday. I must admit, I did briefly wonder if I would get the unpunctuated email and arrive home the next day to find empty drawers, however that didn’t eventuate. So the feud fizzled out and we just moved into the land of normal.
If the Squeeze heard from the Harridan, he kept it to himself; or at least to a minimal explanation of no more than a couple of words.
Of course there is always the standard needle that she likes to dig in regarding kid 3 and how he is living on the edge of despair. There is always that… And while she draws the line at actually stating ‘it is all your fault’, she does dot information with what she considers is his obvious lack of care – this is her true skill – manipulation.
Frankly, I don’t see it. I’m obviously missing something because we have him quite a bit and he is a relatively cheerful kid. Granted, he’s not skipping around whistling show tunes, but he is fourteen. If they do more than grunt at you I figure you’re in front!
He is being teased and teasing in return. He isn’t shy, he knows his way around and is perfectly comfortable; so either she is lying; or the kid is rolled into the foetal position, rocking and crying because he has had to go back to the gingerbread house with the wicked witch – and his name has suddenly been changed to Hansel.
But she won't accept happiness… While he is a happy, well adjusted kid, she can’t hold a hand to her brow and present the face of the victimized, oppressed, and self-sacrificial martyr that she so obviously is.
Last night, he was to go to the “debating club” to watch the kid debate the for’s/againsts of the space program [yes people, you can stop wondering why the kid doesn’t have a swag of friends lining up outside the door and around the block… the debating club, combined with table tennis…] Instead of slinking off for a night of fun, so much fun in fact that I mentioned I’d rather be dead… he received a text to say “no debating”. No reason and let’s face it, he could send repeat questions via text or call until the cows come home; she was not going to answer.
She was not going to answer because this way, she is the keeper of the knowledge and holds all the power.
Not as groovy as other super heroes and I bet she doesn’t even get a ring like Shazaam…
Posted by Mistress at 4:13 PM