The Misery Continues…

Waking up to take my parents on a 6 hour car ride was not an easy thing. My alarm kept going off, and I kept pressing snooze until the last possible moment. I grumpily rolled out of bed, showered and got dressed. My parents were in a good mood, my mom’s fake because she detests Bob’s son Rob, and Bob just being the total idiot he is every day. I drove for a few hours pretty tight-lipped and at the rest stop my mom took over against my will. I sat in the passenger seat and tried to loosen up and talk more, but Bob doesn’t know when to stop and his placing his foot on my shoulder really ticked me off. He mocked me as I told him it wasn’t funny and to put his foot down. So I tortured him by cutting off his candy supply. I waved good and plenties in front of his face and when he went to take them, I said, “Nope, none for you.” He sulked and I added, “Aren’t you sorry you put your foot up now?” He nodded and I turned my back on him until my mom, much much softer than I am when it comes to Bob for obvious reasons, made me give him more.


Bob the Retard & Mumsy’s shoulder.

We collected Rob the obviously mentally challenged at his craptastic run-down apartment he thinks is great. Why? Because he considers himself a “cool kid” (even at 40-something) because he has a place so close to a college that he doesn’t go to. Why is this cool, do you ask? Because poor deluded Rob thinks of himself as a young man still, but we all know he’s not. Idiot. Once Rob was in the car, this was Bob’s queue to talk about anything but the present. Being a historian, he’s just not capable or something. He beings to remark about everything we pass as a trip he made once upon a time. “Oh look… Grandpa’s Cheesebarn..” As we passed it on the highway. “… we went there once, didn’t we, Rob?” Rob agrees and they watch the barn go by out the window. Bob then pipes up, “What did we get there,….. cheese?” This, of course, makes me laugh. I piped up, “I think you buy strawberries there…. or was it the place you get your tires rotated?” My mom is nearly wetting herself laughing but Bob and Rob don’t seem to get it. Not surprising.


Bob the Retard & Rob’s head. Notice the zipped up jacket on Bob? Yeah, it’s 91 degrees outside.

We then collect other family members and go out to dinner. B-renda & Van, Lisa (Rob’s sister), and a few others to complete my misery. Joy of joys. Dinner was actually tolerable because two tables were pushed together to seat the 9 of us, and I sat between David (who had a whole in the rear-end of his jeans and no mudder-feekin’ underwear on) and my mom with Van and Brenda sitting across from me and Rob waaaaaaay on the other side of the table where I didn’t have to look at him. Just as I like it.

Dinner ends and my brothers Van & David decide to go out to “see if it’s still raining.” Code for, “lets go have a smoke.” My mom and I shake our heads as they trot off and I lean over to ask, with B-renda listening in, “Are you sure they aren’t partially retarded?” She laughs and then B-renda pipes up, “Honey, there are two people at this table I’m sure about, and you’re not one of ’em.” and she points at me. I blink a moment, positive I must have heard the sasquach wrong. I furrow my brow and ask, “Did you just call me a retard?” to which she promptly changes the subject. Oh no you di’n’t! I restrain myself from saying anything to her now. But it’s on biatch, oh yeah… it’s on like donkey kong! She’s lucky I didn’t wipe the floor with her hairy butt. She knows she did wrong, too… that’s the real clincher. I was all about making fun of her behind her back, restraining myself on my brother’s behalf, but dem’s fightin’ words.