Another Boring Sunday

Sundays are so boring. My kid is playing outside, my husband is watching televised golf is some homo-erotic Tiger Woods trance, and I have just spent twenty mindless minutes skimming through the somethingawful archives. Two more loads of laundry and I'll have nothing to do until Ryan takes her shower and I assume my duty of reminding her of what she's supposed to be doing every five minutes so she doesn't zone out and forget that hot water has a shelf life. Basically my job during this time is to scream "Shampoo!" and "Soap up!" at appropriate intervals while resetting the dryer to make sure her towel stays hot. I'm such a nice mommy aren't I, warming her towel like that?

Sunday mornings always remind me of my grandmother. Not in a nostalgic home-baked cookies kind of way but rather in an insane octogenarian hopped up on sugar and Jesus kind of way. While other people may have fond memories of their dearly departed grandmothers I have none, for two reasons. One: she doesn't have the decency to dearly depart, and Two: she has never done anything in my presence which could form a fond memory. The reason Sunday mornings remind me of her are because she would always be the overnight babysitter on the rare occasion my parents went out. (Looking back, and knowing my parents from a more mature standpoint than I did then, I realize that their romantic getaways probably consisted entirely of stays in cheap hotels with piped in porn. My father was NOT a romantic.) Anyway, my grandmother, after a night of Lawrence Welk and Knots Landing, would forcibly wake me and my brother up and make us watch The Hour Of Power in an attempt to save our souls. All I really remember of the show was that it was outside and the guy, some preacher dressed like a gay choir singer, stood in front of a giant triangle, which seems even more gay, now doesn't it? I never listened to the words, mainly because my grandmother liked it and she was insane.

Here, to illustrate why I hate my grandmother, is a list of memorable things she has done or said during the years I have been unfortunate enough to know her, along with my age at the time:

1) Told me I would go to Hell if I didn't read Guideposts magazine every time I went to her house. I was 5.

2) Bent over, grabbed my foot, hiked it up farther than it ever wanted to be, and sniffed for dog poo before letting me in her door. This happened almost continuously throughout my childhood.

3) Tried to toss my elderly declawed decidedly INDOORS cat out the back door because she was convinced it was trying to watch her use the toilet. I was 7.

4) Flashed me her boobs in an attempt to convince me to be happy with a small chest, apparently using the argument that hers were huge and hurt her back. I'm still not sure how exposing herself in any way expressed back pain. I was 16.

5) Told me my boyfriend had "the pot eyes" while he stood only four feet away. I was 24.

6) Called me a whore on the street in front of my house. I was 15.

7) Told me, in a restaurant during lunch rush, that my infant daughter would starve if I didn't bottle feed her because my "boobies" were "too small to hold enough milk." I was 22.

8) Called me a slut in front of my daughter. I was 23.

9) Threatened to report me to authorities for bad parenting when she found out that two of Ryan's babysitters were lesbians. I was 24.

10) Told me it was unnatural for my white child to play with black dolls. I was 25.

11) Bought me underwear at a garage sale. Who wears used underwear? Who sells it? I was 12.

12) Accused me of robbing my nine year old cousin of her childhood by asking her discreetly where her mother kept the tampons. Apparently children have no need to know what "the time" is and by mentioning mine to her, I stole the girl's innocence. Funny thing is, I just asked which bathroom was her mom's; the kid was the one who asked if I needed a tampon. I was 15.

13) Accused me of introducing my daughter to witchcraft by buying her Harry Potter books, two years after she saw my pentagram tattoo. I was 30.

14) Told me I'd catch crabs if I didn't wear underwear. I was 29.

15) Kicked me out of her house for responding that you can't catch crabs if you shave your crotch. Hee hee; still 29.

16) Tried to be cool by buying me a grasshopper at the local VFW. I was 22 and nursing.

17) Attempted suicide to get attention, by sliding on her but down half a flight of carpeted stairs with a suicide not pinned to her chest with one of those oversized diaper pins with the pink plastic clasp. I was 18.

18) Accused me of being the black sheep of the family, while my cousin was in Leavenworth on federal drug manufacturing charges. I was 28.

19) Told me how nice my new friend was and that she seemed like she might be the good influence I so needed to have, then called her a horrible person when she found out we were sleeping together. I was 19.

20) Took my picture off the "grandkids table" and replaced it with a photo of Tom and Ryan. I was 29.

21) Faked a series of strokes to get attention. I was 28.

22) Refused to talk to the shrink when her neurologist, in response to her stroke-like attacks, wrote a letter to her family doctor asking him to cancel her Zoloft refills and let a psychiatrist prescribe all psychotropic drugs. "What does it matter what I did when I was a kid? Why won't they just give me my pills?!" I was still 28.

23) Introduced Ryan to frosted Cheerios when she had been perfectly happy with the plainer, healthier ones. I was 22; Ryan was 1.

24) Held it over my head that my cousin was so important at work that she wasn't even able to make it home for Spring Break when the rest of the family knew she was in rehab but wouldn't let me tell her. I was 25.

25) Tried to get me to listen to the tapes of family members' funerals that she sits and listens to at night. I was 26.

27) Convinced my aunt and uncle not to let me babysit their kids because I liked girls and would no doubt molest them while changing their diapers. I was 16.

28) Upon learning of my unplanned pregnancy, suggested that perhaps my uncle might want the baby. I was 21.

29) Called my father a drunk in front of me. I was, ummmm, birth to present.

30) Called my five young cousins together for an important talk and then explained that their parents were getting a divorce when they weren't. When confronted she explained by saying "Well if they aren't, they should!" I was 22; the cousins ranged in age from 8 to 16.

31) Fed my daughter baby food when she was past it because it was easier than cleaning up crumbs. I was 23, my daughter was almost 2.

32) Swaddled my infant daughter in a fleece blanket in July because "babies need to stay warm" despite all of the literature I had shown her saying exactly the opposite. I was 22.


I will no doubt add to this list in the future, but 32 things is all I can think of off the top of my head. Check back later for more.