Okay – well… She’s a lovely person who means well. And if there was some way to make her truly understand what a pain in the ass she is, she’d be horrified.
Some of the things we see and hear every day.
Every time she sees him, even if he was just in the room 2 minutes ago and has now come back. “Iiiiisssnn’t he cuuuute? He’s such a cutie.” said in a little baby voice to my 10 year old. “I just want to eat him up. I’m gonna pack him up and put him in my suitcase and take him with me. Hey
, how would you like that?” Jackson
“What?” he always answers as he’s totally learned to tune her out.
“How would you like it if I packed you up and put you in my suitcase and took you home with me?”
“No.” He answers flatly as he quickly leaves the room again, hoping to catch my eye so he can roll his.
About half the time she continues to me “Would you mind if I packed him up and put him in my suitcase and took him home with me?”
Depending on my mood I might answer – “Yes, Ricky, I would still mind. Just like I said the last time you asked, you still can’t take him home with you.”
Just to keep count she said the sentence “…I’m gonna pack him/you up and put him/you in my suitcase..” three separate times in that one little interchange. And that little convo happens at least 3 or 4 times in the short time I see her after work and before bed. Every. Single. Day.
Ricky: Look at me.
Teddy reluctantly tears his eyes away from the TV or book to look at her expectantly.
Ricky: Your eyes. You prolly (spelling intentional) don’t want to hear this, but you’ve got the pretties eyes.
Teddy does have gorgeous, big, very green eyes that people have been commenting on his entire life, but he’s heard her tell him this exact same thing no less than 30 times in the week or so she’s been here.
Teddy: uh, thanks (mumbled as only a pre teen can do)
Ricky (to me): doesn’t he have the prettiest eyes. Oh! (she looks furtively around for Jackson who has the exact same eyes only his are hazel so not as eye popping) well, of course
has pretty eyes too. Jackson
Me: yes, they both are very lucky to have beautiful eyes.
To me (I get a choice of several):
Ricky: I think it’s better now then it was when I was growing up, people are more tollrent (spelling intentional) now. I think gays are fine. They’re people too just like normal people.
Me: Ricky, they are normal people. Unlike you. (okay, I may just want to say that last part)
Ricky: I didn’t vote for him, but that poor Labamba (spelling intentional) is getting blamed for everything.
Me: His name is Obama. I don’t care if you don’t agree with him, but you have to learn his name; he’s the President of the
. Say it with me. O…. Bam…. A. United States
Ricky: But they blame him for everything. He should be putting in those things that what’s his name…
had, cuz when he left office there was a surplus. My church doesn’t like the death squads he has. As if he really wants to kill old people. Clinton
Me: OMG, we’ve been over this. The death squads don’t exist. They were created by his opponents and made up. It was a lie. It’s not real. I promise you it’s not real. I believe Sarah Palin first used the term in a speech.
Ricky: I think that Sharon Falin (spelling intentional) is a pretty woman, but I wouldn’t want her to be the vice president or the president.
I could go on, but you get the idea. I could have both sides of all the conversations with her for tonight before I get there.
The ick factor (I’m sorry Draz, if you are reading this, you should probably stop now):
She burps and farts. A lot. “Oh, skoos me” she says. A lot. I have to check the top of the toilettes in the two bathrooms she uses a lot as there is often stuff left on the seat that just shouldn’t be there.
She is a diabetic and on a lot of medication. She takes her meds in the morning including giving herself an insulin shot – which she does by twisting her body and pulling down her pants at the breakfast table regardless of who’s in the room with her. My children have seen FAR more than they ever needed to see of a 65ish year old woman.
She often walks around the house in an old fashioned house coat. The kind that buttons up the front. Hers stops above her knees and is very old. So as she sits with her legs apart (as she often does) – we all get to see far more than we bargained for.
Me: Close your legs Ricky!
Her: Oh skoos me.