Sunday, August 6, 2017

Ch 8 Doris emails Primo that she doesn’t know how to make me approve of them and I am all, “WHAT??” because seriously, people, my dislike and disapproval (do I disapprove of them? Maybe – I disapprove of screaming at dinner guests) of them is not the issue here. I have not failed to feed my houseguests and I have not asked my houseguests to do all the crap work at my house and I have never screamed at anyone for taking all the white meat or even for taking all the dark meat

She writes,

I know you resent coming here and doing our chores. Dad and I share the belief that you are saint-like in your concern and help to us. Tending the awful jobs of caulking our shower and dealing with the cat box area were especially appreciated. The fact that you took over almost all the kitchen/cooking chores still puts me in tears--I love you so much. I am happy that you are happy. I regret that I don't know how to woo Goldie into some approval of us.

·         I need to be a better actress. I thought I was concealing my feelings. I behave properly – I help out, I do not argue, I smile, I am agreeable. On the surface, I am nice to them. And I really do try to find common ground with Doris – gardening, cooking. I have failed.
·         At the gym, I overheard a woman complaining about her daughter in law keeping her son away from her. I wanted to tell her that maybe she is the one keeping the son away - that maybe if it was pleasant for the son and DIL to visit, they might want to come. “Don’t make them clean the cat poop off the walls,” I wanted to say, “and don’t expect them to do work you can hire someone to do. And most important – be nice to the DIL. That’s really all you have to do – be nice to her.”


  1. I'm unable to characterize your writing, other than that it is singularly unique. Redundant, I know. But I felt it needed the extra emphasis.

    1. What a lovely thing to say! Thank you. I will be coasting on your compliment for a while.

  2. I am so nice to my DIL, never say a bad word no matter what. She could run naked down the street, roaring drunk screaming obscenities (not that she would) and I would not say a word. Learned that lesson long ago.

  3. Advice from BFF when my son got married- pocketbook open, mouth shut. It has worked.