So this weekend was interesting, as all of my weekends of late seem to be. I was lazily planning my Saturday when I heard the downstairs house phone ring. I ignored it, and eventually it went to the answering machine. Soon after my cell rang and I raced to get it, but was too late. I looked to see who it was, expecting it to be Keithy, to find it was my brother Van. Hrm interesting! So I call him back only to get voice mail. So I call his house number and B-renda answers, “I don’t know why he would be calling you.” Shut up, freak. He’s my brother… duh.
Finally he calls back and says, “You gonna be at the mall today?” I’m like… huh? “Why would I be at the mall?” He says, “I got the kids today!” in a tone that says duuuuh! This, of course, angers me but I reigned it in. “Uhh… no one told me I had to be there.” He says, “Yeah, around 12:30 in the food court.” Marvelous. I hated it last time because he put me in an awkward position, so here we go again. I could hear the panic in his voice. “Right, I’ll be there.” I said. He acts like I owe it to him. “Ok, don’t be late.” Dude, don’t push it.
The kids are in rare form. Brandon hits his spine on the corner of a chair but is fine. Chris pulls a chunk of hair out of my head, like I need the help, and reports, “You wash your hair too much.” I refrain from saying anything and hold my head in horror. Brandon decides to take a lock of hair from the side of my head and again I say nothing and hold my head in awe. All-in-all it was an interesting meeting. They met B-renda and her treat to them was to make them sit in a tuxedo rental place for an hour out of their hour and a half visitation. Nice thinking hairy step-mother.
Van says, “Welp, you can go now.” as I wave to the boys as they drive off with their mom. I reign in my anger again at the dismissal. Jerk.
My mom spent the morning before I left crying about how Van doesn’t want anything to do with her, and yet I wasn’t allowed to say anything about her being upset. Well folks, I don’t need my mom’s hurt feelings to fuel my fire anymore, I have my own reasons for being bitter and angry. My family has become a wound that constantly gets slashed open, and here I am… telling whatever stranger might happen across this about it, and not the people that I should be! Why? Because if I do, then they’ll have to be upset or angry about something and that would be uncomfortable. Boo-hoo!
I haven’t talked to my brother in 2 days except to tell him that saying he’s registered at the bank for his wedding is tacky. Does he care? No. Will he? Oh hell yes. He WILL care if I have to …….do something…. really….. to like……. make him!