My brother is a jerk (and other assorted Mother’s Day tales)
I thought moving out would make my brother a little more mature and decent toward my mother but it looks as though he’s not one who embraces change well. Not only did my brother tell my mother he couldn’t be long on the phone because he was getting ready to take his live-in girlfriend (I can’t use the term fiancee without my eyes rolling out of my head) out to dinner, he never as much as stopped by or even bought her a cheesy potted plant. My mother would’ve adored it because she’s all about the sentiment. But nope. And the topper? She cried alone in her house on Mother’s Day. Oh, and you know your otherwise “wouldn’t say a bad thing about anyone” mother is hurt when she uses the terms “asshole” and “pissed off.” (The asshole is the girlfriend. While she’s hurt, she hasn’t gone there in referring to my brother that way. Yet?) It’s actually pretty funny in a thick Hungarian accent sprinkled in broken English.
On a happier note, I, being the good daughter that I am, took my mom out to breakfast and then flower shopping. We talked about it last week and decided that because we knew the flower market would be flooded yesterday, we’d go today in the morning and avoid the crowds. It was still busy but not the crazy busy that the weekend traffic brings. Iz came along while the other two were in school and we went to Charly’s for a nice quiet breakfast to start the day.
The amount of flowers to chose from was tremendous. They were so beautiful. Last year I didn’t bother buying any because I wasn’t sure that I would be able to keep up with them and the kids. It was a good idea because they would’ve died a bitter, brown death and I would’ve wasted money I could’ve otherwise used for my drinking habit (the SAHM thing). The flowers wouldn’t have fared well either.
I ended up buying hanging wave petunias (with some extra crap mixed in) for the hooks on the side of the house and some flats of impatiens for the front (the image to the left isn’t mine–just an example. I’ll try and take some of mine this week). If we ever get a sign in front, I want to boost the curb appeal as much as possible. That was pretty much my mother’s reasoning for buying flowers this year–give the front window box a splash of color to catch the eye.
Speaking of selling, my brother (who from here on will be referred to as Buttmunch) still has yet to remove all of his stuff from the house. He even has a pile of boxes in my mother’s living room that she has covered with a bed sheet so she doesn’t have to look at them. It’s been two months and his shit is still in various parts of the basement and upstairs. Now that she’s angry and hurt about how she was treated on Mother’s Day, she has no qualms about my putting what I deem worthy in the garage and to pitch the rest. I have no qualms about doing it, either.
