Adventures With Mommie Dearest, Part 3

I think the only way to not be pissed about this one is to just get it out.  Right now, I’m still irritated.

So, I was having a morning like any other with the mother.  Everything going along swimmingly.  I took the dog out for a walk and, for whatever reason, she decided to partially follow me.  I asked her to get the manual for her car (one of her headlights is out and it needs to be fixed before she gets pulled over AGAIN and actually gets a ticket), she said she didn’t have her keys.  Please keep in mind that she was in the driveway at this point.  Anyway, I said that she should get them, so she sulked into the house.  Please also keep this in mind–last night, we actually bought the new light for the car and SHE said that she wanted my help with it this morning.

So, I finish up with the dog and bring him in, then go out to help my mom, who has this attitude rolling off of her in waves.  I open her trunk, we look at the headlight mechanisms, with her grumbling and saying things about how she’ll get pulled again and actually get a ticket, blah blah blah, and basically come to the conclusion that, as it stands, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to do it ourselves, and my suggestion that she bring it somewhere like Advanced Auto was met with, essentially, a growl.  Oooookay.  So, we close up the car and go inside; as she’s going to wash her hands, she screams out, “FUCK!”  Genuinely confused, I asked, “What?”  “I forgot to put antifreeze in the car which I have to do every day!”

Well excuse me for fucking living.  And this was somehow my fault that she either A)forget to put the antifreeze in the car or B)that she had to put it in the car at all.  What the fucking hell?

After she does this, she comes back in the house, washes her hands, then goes to her bedroom and slams her door.  I hear her rummaging about, slamming drawers, until she finally emerges, partially dressed for work.  I minute later, she’s storming through the living room and yells, “I’m leaving.”  I go out into the living room and as she’s huffing out the door, she says something about me enjoying my cupcake.  The door slams, she slams the door of her car and screeches off to work.

Am I the only one that finds this confusing?

The cupcake; let me explain.  We bought a couple of individually packaged cupcakes last night, and I didn’t think about it until this morning.  At some point (and I honestly can’t remember if it was before I took the dog out or just after or what), I said, “I forgot I had a cupcake!”  That was it.  I heard her mumble something about it, but other than that, that’s all I said.  She must have felt that I would eat this (offensive) cupcake instead of going out with her and eating more unnecessary fast food that she had earlier suggested.  Instead of addressing it as an adult or as if I am a fellow human being, she had a hissy fit.

Her car; she’s had this car for about six weeks now.  She acquired it after a two week search (conducted almost entirely by me and not her) during which we shared my car.  Again, I’d like to stress that she did very little in the way of finding a new car; even when I’d tell her about a car and hand over the phone number, she’d asked if I’d called about it.  Umm, no.  I’m not the one in need of a car.  Anyway, I found this car and she called about it and we went to see it.  On the way over, I kept telling her not to buy it if it wasn’t what she wanted, that I’d rather we continued to share my car until she found something that would work than her getting a car that would just be waste of money or whatever.  Anyway, she sat in this new car, turned it on, and bought it, knowing that it needed a new headlight.  All righty.  A few days later, when I told my sister about this whole situation, she made a comment to the effect that since I was the one who found the car, I was the one who would be blamed if something went wrong.

Nothing has technically gone wrong, but I’m still at fault, amazingly enough.

Last Wednesday, she was pulled over for her out-of-order headlight and was let off with a warning.  At this point, she’s had more than a month to get this in working order, or at least attempt to do so, but nothing has been done other than registering the car with DMV.  She even knows someone who works at Advanced Auto and tinkers with cars who would probably be willing to check the car and see that everything is in working order; she has gone by once to see if he was at work.  That’s it.

That comment about her getting a ticket; I know that she wanted me to say that I would drive her to work/pick her up tonight.  For whatever reason, if I’m not working and she is, she wants to be driven to and from work, which is, at times, a giant pain in the ass.  Among other things, it puts a severe damper on anything I might want to do because I have to make sure I go pick her up.  The only time she’s dropped me off at work are the occasions she has borrowed my car for the day.

Seriously, this woman is insane; she likes to drop blame wherever possible.  A couple of years ago, a few months after I moved in with her, I was doing our taxes online.  As I was inputting her information, she realized that I had done my own taxes first (god forbid!) and therefore she couldn’t claim me as a dependent on her taxes.  The fact that I had only lived with her for a couple of months out of the fiscal year and she wouldn’t have been able to claim me on her taxes at the point seemed to escape her.  Never mind that I was doing her taxes for her (again)…I was a bastard for doing my own first.

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~ by raspychick on March 21, 2012.

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