Friday, April 8, 2011

Drama Squared...

Drama, stage one...I picked my daughter up from school yesterday and before we went home I carefully told her that Charlie had gone to a new home. She did really well with the new family to love him concept, but we hit a snag when she discovered she was not going to get a chance to say goodbye. Then the frantic crying commenced. After about 30 seconds, she suddenly smiled really big and with that excited on Christmas morning high pitched voice she asked "Does this mean I can get a white Chihuahua now?".

She was so completely over Charlie that she was already on to the mythical, white Chihuahua. That went better than expected. I did have to tell her no, not right now. The soft no seemed to sit okay with her for the time being. I did get grilled later on why now wasn't a spectacular time for a new dog. I think my carefully worded answers have bought me an extra couple of days before she asks me again.

Drama, stage Mom can rub me the wrong way in mere seconds. I tried to invite her for a meal on Easter Sunday and immediately was sorry I did. Is Rudy coming? Is Lexi going to be there? What am I making for lunch? Will it be a late lunch or an early supper? My first thought is "why the hell do you care about any of this, show up when I tell you and don't worry about the rest". Then I realize that the queen of the Orchestra needs to get on her conductor's hat so she can yet again run the show.

By the end of her e-mail, she has almost talked herself out of coming over because she is certain that Rudy and I will do everything and she will have to sit on the couch doing nothing like a fifth wheel and then it is on to how the rest of her life is in ruin because nobody understands how much she has suffered.

I sit there at my computer wondering how "Hey, was thinking of doing something for Easter Sunday after church. Would you like to join us?" Went to "Mom, you are useless and boring and my goal in life it to make you feel badly about yourself". I guess I speak another language?

The sad part is I am so used to this occurrence that I actually expected it and almost didn't invite her because I knew it would end up being a big deal. I refuse to let her get to me though. If she isn't happy, nobody can fix that for her but her. I learned that one a LONG time ago.


  1. See, I told you this blogging stuff would become addicting!

    I was not invited to the birthday party of Peanut's godparents' son...didn't see that one coming. They're legally not my in-laws but they are still family...grrr.

    Just thought I'd add to your drama a bit. Kind of like bad things happen in threes, only now it's Drama Cubed!

  2. Drama is not a noun. It is a verb. It only has a meaning if you give it a noun to belong to in a sentance.

    Don't be that noun.

    Your mom will get over it. And if she doesn't? well, more pie for you!