Monday, September 11, 2017

Ch 11 We go to Sly and Doris’ for Christmas. Again. When will this madness end?

Me: What about staying in town? I thought you hated to travel during the holidays.

Primo: I know, but my mom.

Me: You can go by yourself.

Primo: I know they are awful to you.

Me: It’s not like they are nice to you, either.

Primo: I know.

Me: What about going to my mom’s for a change?

Primo: We went to your mom’s this summer. And honestly? Your mom will not punish me if we don’t go.

Me: Yes. I was not raised by wolves. My mother is a kind person who does not scream at people. Can’t you just tell them to go to hell?

Primo: You don’t get it. You come from a nice family – a low-drama family. I feel sorry for my mom. My dad is mean to her. I am the only thing in her life she looks forward to. I just want her to have a few days of not being alone with my dad. He is such a jerk.

Fine.

Playing the sad old lady card. Fine. I guess I can suck it up for a few days to give some relief to an old woman whose husband is mean to her. Surely he will not be mean if there are witnesses, right?

Plus, now that I know Sly doesn’t like me because of the way I eat bacon, I can go just to observe. I have detached myself from them. I no longer care if I have their approval – I know I will never get it – I tried and they told me, “Too bad, toots! It’s all on you!” – and I am not going to try anymore.


Instead, I will be an anthropologist watching a strange species – a species of people who judge how other people at bacon. I will eat bacon wrong in front of him just to provoke a reaction. I will observe their strange little ways and write it all down for you guys. Whenever Sly starts ranting about whatever, I will think, “Keep talking, old man. I’m taking notes.”

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