I sat on my couch numb-struck for a moment because my brain was SIZZLING and crackling with ANGER.
“I’m sorry, she said, what?” I asked my mother-in-law, Sarah, who was sitting next to me.
Wearing a grim expression, she replied, “When Nana* and I went grocery shopping, she said she wouldn’t buy DIRT at Kroger and that Charlie buys cheap meat.”
“I know it is. I reminded her that Charlie frequently makes Porterhouse steaks for everyone on Memorial Day, and last time I visited too, and he bought her filet Mignon,” Sarah explained in a bitter tone.
“And the only cheap meat I’ve ever seen in your fridge in the 15 years since you got married,” Sarah continued, “is that Kroger brand deli meat that Charlie buys for himself because he doesn’t care what brand he buys. And there’s nothing wrong with Kroger meat anyway, but I know he didn’t buy that for her HIGHNESS. She also said that you never bake anything and that her room hadn’t been cleaned in months.”
“What the hell is she talking about? I clean her room every Saturday! And I just cleaned it the day before we left for Vegas. Was it dusty or something because of her opening the window?”
“No. I told her that her room was spotless when I got here until the dog took a nap in there and got blond fur all over the place, which I vacuumed up while she was in the shower.”
“And I stopped baking anything for her because she’d eat maybe two pieces of cake or a couple cookies or something, and I’d end up throwing the rest out unless it was something that Max likes because she wants a different damned desert every day except when I made donuts. And she ate TWO donuts every day.”
“I know. She told me,” Sarah said.
“She just doesn’t understand. I’m already spending 3-5 hours every day cooking, washing dishes and trying to keep the house clean, which as you know, doesn’t leave near enough time for me to work. So, I’m sorry that I haven’t had time to bake Ms. Cranky Pants a fresh dessert every day. And she’s the ONLY person who eats all that anyway. Charlie and I are both trying to lose weight. And Max is here so little now with his work schedule and everything that he only eats dinner here at 10 or 11 o’clock at night when he may or may not be in the mood to eat angel food cake or whatever.”
Sarah nodded. “I know. I don’t understand her attitude. And what’s wrong with Kroger? And I told her that all the stores carry about the same thing. So, why go over to Giant Eagle or whatever when everything is going to cost 50 cents or a dollar more.”
And for the record, since Nana moved in with us 18 months ago, I’ve made: Coca Cola Cake THREE TIMES, and all of the following at least twice: blueberry muffins (from scratch), chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal cookies, Snickerdoodles, blond and chocolate brownies, chocolate chip muffins, sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies, pound cake, lemon cake, cheesecake, honey bran muffins, and homemade bread more than 20 times because I prefer it to store bought bread.
I’m thinking this lack of RECALL is a pretty good indicator of Alzheimer’s or Dementia, is it not?
Sarah nodded. “I know. I don’t understand her attitude and how she can be so ungrateful.”
“And how tactless to badmouth my husband to his MOTHER of all people.”
I was so furious that I avoided Nana for the next three days, and then I couldn’t help it. My inner most BITCH broke free and lambasted the old bird.
I walked into her room, sat down on the bed and said, “You and I have to have a serious chat.”
“Oh, is something wrong?” Nana asked innocently.
“Yes, you can disparage me ALL you want, but if you EVER make another derogatory comment about Charlie or my boys, you’ll be living in the street!”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Sarah told me what you said about Charlie buying cheap meat and that you wouldn’t buy dirt at Kroger.”
Nana blinked, her eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t say that.” But I could tell by the way her eyes were shifting nervously that she was lying.
“Really and you didn’t hoard any money to give Cathy, either, did you**?”
Nana grimaced and began taking deep and rather loud breaths like she might hyperventilate, which is ALL an act because she stopped doing it like 30 seconds later.
“Yeah, Sarah made up awful things about her own SON? So, I suggest you keep your obnoxious and insensitive comments to yourself from now on or start packing!” I hollered, slamming the door behind me.
For those of you who might not GET why Nana’s comments infuriated me so badly, take a gander at:
Nay, what she said on my mother’s death bed was worse. However, this latest defaming of my husband’s character was a major turning point in my life. A few days after I got back from Vegas, I started researching nursing homes…and that’s ALL I’m gonna say about that for now.
THANKS for tuning in, boys and girls. I must go now, the Geriatric Beast is yowling for more tea…
Over and out from the FLAMES of Paradise LOST…
TenaciousBITCH and her band of bullshit QUASHERS!
*For a humorous story about Nana, check out #18 The Oatmeal Incident at: https://tenaciousbitch.com/2011/06/02/the-oatmeal-incident/ …or Post #62 – https://tenaciousbitch.com/2012/05/25/post-61-macys-alleged-faux-paus/
** For info on that, check out: https://tenaciousbitch.com/2012/07/11/the-attempted-con-of-ms-cranky-pants/ …. and Post #69 – https://tenaciousbitch.com/2012/07/19/post-69-the-brooding-nana-vs-the-world-of-its-all-fine/
© Tenacious Bitch/Kennedy Smith 2012
ALL posts: © Tenacious Bitch/Kennedy Smith 2012