Sunday, June 26, 2005

Better Get Some Waders Pop

My mother has been playing this sort of cat and mouse mindfuck with me about she and my dad moving up to the north end by us. She will start this pissing and moaning routine about how she hates the school she teaches at, how she is going to freeze to death in her classroom, how she cannot STAND to be in her house one more second. I then run around, find applications and job fairs for school districts for her to visit. I find houses in her budget online. We go to open houses. I try to sell my dad on this whole deal.

And then she hems and haws about how she doesn't want to leave her friends and what if she doesn't like it and blah blah blah.

Lather, rinse, repeat over and over until I want to kill some one. Possibly her. Maybe myself.

And about a month ago I said screw it. Stop messing with me. You are never going to move you are never going to change jobs. Quit wasting my time.

I was sort of mean about it.

I was really fucking mean about it. But. I mean. Y'all. HOURS I have spent on this for nothing.

And then last week, she got a call from one of the districts. For an interview. And she is all a twitter about it. It is the nicest district in the state.

So we drive to where her interview is going to be. And by the school. And it is so nice.

And we go to open houses. One house that was too old and needed a lot of work. One that was a melange of every disaster that came from the seventies. I dearly wish that I had my digital camera because I cannot explain the bathroom in this house. There is no explanation. No rational person would live in house with that bathroom.

And then we went to the house. The house that my mother loved. That had just been decorated and had new floors and a great kitchen. That was a short commute for my dad. That my mother got way too attached to considering she needs to basically sandblast her house before they can sell it.

My dad, my dad who really does not want to move and is very resistant to this whole idea?

Is in deep shit.

No comments: