In which Primo stays up all night to do the taxes and then we fight before he leaves for Sly and Doris'

Primo stayed up all night to finish the taxes.

So he didn't get any sleep and I didn't get any sleep because how can you sleep when you don't know when or if your husband is coming to bed?

And then you think, Well he can sleep on the plane, but then you think, But we have to drive to the airport and Primo always wants to be the driver and even if it's OK going to the airport, how will it be once he is where Sly and Doris live and has to drive the hour from the airport to their house (what were they thinking?). If he gets killed in a car accident, there is almost no life insurance on him because he is no longer working, so his death would not free you from daily labor and strife so it wouldn't even be worth it.

Primo said, "What if they threaten to disinherit me?"

I said, "I would say Thank You Jesus. You could walk away from that madhouse with a clear conscience."

"But I am still the executor of the will."

"So what? Pay someone to do everything. It would come from the estate, which you are not getting any of anyhow."

He was cranky. I was cranky. We fought. We fought over dumb stuff, like how he came to bed at 6:23, two minutes before my alarm was set to go off only of course I was awake because how can you sleep when you don't know what's going on? I was ticked because he wanted me to wake him up in 20 minutes - which is longer than I need for my shower and to start drying my hair, but I didn't want to run the hairdryer if he was sleeping.

Who gets worthwhile sleep when it is only 20 minutes?

And then we fought because it was 6:45 and he would not get his ass out of bed and I wanted to get him to the airport so I could get to work because I don't have enough political capital at this new job to come waltzing in whenever I feel like it.

Then we fought because he thought it was a good idea to put the dry dishes away and to wash the dishes he had put in the sink overnight when he had to eat chocolate cake and ice cream, which I think are perfectly reasonable ways to console onesself when one is pulling an all-nighter at our age.

I pointed out that putting dishes away and washing other dishes was not exactly on the critical path of 1. getting to the airport and 2. getting to work. He said that he just wanted me to come home to a clean house. I said I do not care stop doing the dishes before I punch you in the nose.

I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have punched him in the nose. I have not done that sort of thing for a very long time

Although I am not opposed to using violence when violence is necessary. This woman wrote how she wouldn't have a gun in her house because she could never under any circumstances shoot anyone and I thought, I sure could shoot someone. I would have no problems whatsoever shooting someone who had broken into my home and was coming after me or someone I loved. No problems at all.

Then I logged into my work email and discovered that my 9 a.m. meeting was postponed until 1:00 p.m., which really made me cranky because that meant I would have to go to the gym and be done by 1, but also made getting to work on time not so stressful, only I made the mistake of mentioning it to Primo, who immediately said, "So it's not so critical that we leave at 7:30?" And that ticked me off and we were off and running again.

But then we got into the car and bonded over our shared anger at Sly and Doris and we fumed and talked about how awful they were all the way to the airport and then I apologized to him for being a bitch and he apologized to me for not getting the taxes done before now and for staying up all night and we kissed and it's all good except of course Sly and Doris are going to be pissy again.

In which Primo contemplates a driving the moneychangers out of the temple moment

Primo: I am thinking of storming into my mom and dad's house and breaking all the liquor bottles.

Me: Hmmmm.

Primo: Maybe not the right thing to do?

Me: Well, it might make you feel better.

Primo: Definitely.

In which Primo is getting even more cranky about leaving tomorrow for Sly and Doris'

Primo: I am really angry. I am getting cranky. I talked to Jack. They are OBLIVIOUS. All they are doing is drinking. My mom's oxygen machine stopped working and they didn't even notice! They heard something beeping but thought it was from the construction across the street!

Me: But it's Sunday!

Primo: I know! They are that much out of it! At least last time when I went it because of my dad's surgery. This is just because of their stupidity - because of my dad getting drunk and falling on my mom and she's the one who's injured, not him.

Me: Didn't your mom notice she wasn't getting oxygen?

Primo: Nope.

In which Primo gets even more annoyed about his pending trip to Sly and Doris'

Primo: I don't want to go.

Me: I don't blame you.

Primo: They are not going to be nice. They are not going to be grateful.

Me: I know.

Primo: That time I went to all that trouble to take a Good Steak for them* they didn't even like it.

Me: They didn't even bother to say, "Thank you Son for going through all this trouble to share something with us that you think is special."

Primo: Of course not! Why should they care about anyone else's feelings? Oh. Did I tell you what Jack [his half-brother texted yesterday?]**

Me: No.

Primo: He wrote that they are oblivious and that they need a reality check.

Me: They do!

Primo: Did I tell you what happened yesterday when I called?

Me: No.

Primo: My mom handed the phone to my dad and said, "Here's Primo. He's bitching at us." That was after I asked her not to be drunk when I got there.


* I was adamantly opposed to the idea.
1. They are drunks and have no taste buds.
2. I don't like them and do not want to share one of our Good Steaks with them.
3. I do not want to do anything nice for mean people.

** Jack is staying with Sly and Doris this weekend until Primo gets there.

In which Primo asks Doris not to be drunk when he arrives and Doris is all offended because SHE DOES NOT HAVE A DRINKING PROBLEM

Primo just got off the phone with Sly and Doris. He confirmed that Doris cannot get to the bathroom on her own. He asked Doris to not be drunk when he arrived and she said whaaaat? she is never drunk! Never!

Primo reminded her that she was drunk the past two times he went there and she said that whaaat? she did not remember that at all. I said Well she wouldn't would she?

Then Primo told Sly that his goal is that Sly and Doris will have hired help before Primo leaves. Sly protested that they didn't need no stinkin' help. And then he cited Ted's mother in law, who has daily help, at Ted's wife's insistence, as she could not keep flying to her mom's to help. "[Ted's wife's mom] doesn't even like the person who comes in to help!"

To which I said, That is fine they do not have to like whomever they hire. They don't even have to hire anyone. But they have to understand that you will no longer be flying there to help them with basic everyday tasks for which they are perfectly capable of hiring help.

Then Sly joked that he should just call Rent a Son. I told Primo he should call Rent a Father to find parents who actually have their lives in order.

Primo asked, But what if they disinherit me?

And I said, You are already not in the will and if they disinherit you or threaten to disinherit you again, then you can say, Fine. Have a nice life.

(Besides, they will drink all their money before they die, anyhow.)

In which Primo is planning his fifth (fourth? I am having a hard time keeping track) emergency visit to Sly and Doris' in six months

Primo: I am going to have to change my mother's bedpan in the potty chair.

Me: That is going to be gross.

Primo: So will my dad tell me I shouldn't be grossed out?

Me: I don't know.

Primo: He was cranky when I called him before - he said they were getting too many phone calls.

Me: You mean calls from their children, who are concerned about them?

Primo: Yes.

Me: What are you going to do if they refuse to do anything? To hire help, to plan a move?

Primo: They have to do something!

Me: But what will you do if they don't?

Primo: They HAVE to!

Me: You can't make them.

Primo: But I can't keep going there to take care of them in a crisis!

Me: It's working for them so far.

Primo: I am going to tell them that before I leave, they have to have someone hired to come in and help them every day.

Me: And if they don't?

Primo: They have to! I can't keep doing this!

In which - wait for it - there is more Sly and Doris drama! And alcohol is involved!

I know. You thought that while Primo was back at home, after Sly's knee surgery and Sly and Doris' dislike of the very nice retired RN (the one who makes soup with "no flavor") who would be perfectly happy to help Sly and Doris with household things for $20 an hour, which they can afford and frankly, is a bargain for someone who is willing to put up with those two, that Sly and Doris would be busy getting their affairs in order and finding either home help or a retirement home.

YOU WOULD BE WRONG.

They have done nothing except now some friends of theirs have moved to a retirement home in Atlanta and now they think that is what they should do but have not done anything beyond saying, "We would like this place," anything like ASKING THE FACILITY WHAT IT COSTS AND IF THERE IS ROOM.

A visit, of course, is out of the question.

Which makes me wonder how they would even move - if they can't even travel to visit a place, how will they move there?

I was just going to gripe about my happy problem that Sly and Doris had finally reimbursed Primo for his travel there - which is excellent -  but had done it by giving him hundred-dollar bills, which is not so excellent, as we are not in the habit of making huge purchases in cash and I am very reluctant to ask a cashier to break a hundred for a $4 coffee. I have been a cashier. It stinks when someone wipes out your cash drawer.

So I was going to gripe about the hundreds (but fake griping because yahoo! they are finally paying!) but now I have something real to gripe about.

Primo woke up this morning to a phone message from his brother Ted.

Someone had to go to the ER last night.

That's all he said.

I was all cranky at Ted for not being more detailed, but then I learned that he got a message from Jack, the other brother, which said about the same thing.

So Primo called his mom and dad and discovered that last night, Sly fell. Sly weighs 260 lbs. He asked Doris, who weighs 110 lbs (5'9") to help him up.

"He should have known better than that!" I said.

Primo answered, "Ted talked to him last night about ten and he was drunk. I suspect his judgment was still impaired."

Sly asks Doris to help him up.

She tries.

He falls.

On her.

On her knee.

Her knee is so painful they call an ambulance. The EMTs get Sly up (your tax dollars at work!) and take Doris to the ER.

"She didn't even get into a room," Primo said. "She thinks they have her on a list because they sued the hospital last year."

They did an x-ray or a scan and discovered nothing broken. Sent her home at 4 a.m. in a taxi.

She is - how do I put this? - incapable of toileting herself. Last time Primo was there, he got a potty chair down from the attic.

(Note to self: Ask Primo why his parents 1. own a potty chair and 2. moved it from where they used to live, assuming they didn't buy it where they live now.)

However - she did not have the potty chair.

She had a small wastebasket.

Which she used.

Mostly successfully.

Primo will be going there again in three days (on April 13). "I guess this is why I needed to get the taxes done before April 15th," he said. "In case something like this came up."

In which Primo suggests a new career direction and I just about pass out

Primo: So my friend John really wants to start a beer bar.

Me: That's  nice.

Primo: I am really  interested in working with him on it.

Me: We are not going to invest money in a beer bar.

Primo: Why not?

Me: Because most small businesses fail. Because restaurants are even  more risky than most small businesses. How much money did your parents lose on Jack's restaurant?

Primo: That's different. You are using my parents as an example of what not to do. I would not do it wrong like they did.

Me: We spent $20,000 on your campaign.

Primo: See, that's what I would be talking about -  not the $200,000 my parents lost on the restaurant.

Me: Are. You. Kidding. Me? You really think it would be a good idea TO BLOW TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS ON A BAR?

Primo: Who says it would be blown?

Me: Oh. My. God.

Primo: It could work.

Me: If I am going to blow twenty grand, I am going to get plastic surgery or take some fabulous trips.

Primo: It's just an idea.

In which Ted, who was 22, at the time, takes Nancy, who was 13, to a pot party

Oh yes he did.

He was old enough to know better.

He took a 13 year old to a pot party.

I think that tells you all you need to know about him.

In which Sly and Doris' main criteria for assisted living is a heated pool with water aerobics

Primo has been trying to get Sly and Doris to move to assisted living for years and they keep saying they don't need it and they don't like the places around them anyhow because you have to wear shoes when you are in the dining room and they want water aerobics and some of these places don't even have a pool, etc, etc.

Sly also mused that perhaps they should just find a pied a terre in Brooklyn. Wouldn't that be nice? An urban environment close to the arts where they could walk to the coffee shop.

If that's what was important to them, why on earth did they move to the generic suburbs in [warm state with no state income tax, even though they think everyone else should pay more taxes]? The nearest major urban area a la Brooklyn is eight hours away.

Then Sly said there is this place in Atlanta where some friends of theirs have moved and perhaps they should move there. Primo thought that at least in Atlanta, he would be able to get a direct flight and not have to rent a car to drive an hour to their place.

But it has gone no further than that. They will find a reason not to like it - You mean there is no open bar every night? There are no cabana boys to wave peacock feathers over them as they nap by the infinity pool? You mean there is no breakfast in bed? You mean laundry is  not handwashed in Perrier and rolled on the plump thighs of virgins?

In which Primo croaks out, "Laura!" and I do not come with soup

I am used to fighting with Primo when he returns from his mom and dad's but we also had a fight when he got back from his birthday ski trip with his best friend. The ski trip was great, but Primo caught a cold on the way home and was in full-press Man Cold Whine by his return. (Thanks again to Rubi for bringing that video into my life.)

I had to leave for a work trip the next day.

Primo: But who's going to wait on me and bring me soup?

Me: I don't know. Nobody waits on me when I get sick.

Primo: But it's different for me! I'm a man!

In which Sly and Doris discover that the joy is in the little things

Primo talked to Sly and Doris today. Sly is not going to physical therapy. They are annoyed that their cleaning lady is not helping them more.

"But they haven't asked her to do anything, right?" I asked.

"Right," Primo answered.

"But they're still annoyed at her."

"Yes."

"Like when they wanted Jack [Primo's half brother] to offer to help but they were not going to ask him and they were all mad."

"Yes. Oh. Jack can't help them this week - they think - because his mom is visiting."

Sly and Doris hate Sly's first wife, the woman he abandoned when their two boys were both under five years old. Because she was so evil that she had to be abandoned, you see.

"Anyhow, my mom said that the weather there is really crummy but at least it's crummy while [Jack's mom] is there, so it's not a total loss."

"She really said that?"

"Yes."

I shook my head. "Every time I think I seen the depths of pettiness from your mom and dad, something new comes along. Your parents are actually taking pleasure in the fact that [Jack's mom] might not be having a nice time because the weather is bad?"

"Yes."

What do you say to that?

In which Primo throws cheese

I need to write about the big cheese-throwing fight that Primo and I had when he returned after almost two straight weeks with Sly and Doris, but first, I have to tell you that he just got back from a good trip - a five-day 50th birthday celebration ski trip  with his best friend - but he is still cranky, which is what always happens after Sly and Doris, because he has returned with a cold.

Lord have mercy. Separate bedrooms - no! separate houses! - make so much sense.

The cold is not my fault! I don't care if he is cranky. I care if he is cranky at me.

The cheese.

Remember how we had to cancel the party because Primo was in such a foul mood and I had no intention of inflicting that on my friends?

Before I knew we were cancelling the party, I decided that we did not have enough cheese to make Ro-Tel dip and this great date-cheese-onion pizza so I bought more cheese.

When Primo got home, he did his usual inventory of the fridge and the freezer, an event I try to avoid because it's boring and pointless and I DO NOT CARE if he knows what has changed in the fridge. He can figure it out for himself.

But somehow, I got trapped in the kitchen. He opened the cheese drawer and saw all the new cheese. Then he saw the grocery store receipt on the counter and got all mad because 1. I had bought more cheese and 2. the cheese I bought was more expensive than the cheese he can get at Aldi and 3. why didn't I just go to to Aldi?

I tried reason, which many of you know does not work when someone is in lizard brain.

I said 1. my time is worth more than the hassle of going to Aldi and 2. it was only twelve damn dollars and he spends that much on two beers in one night.

He kind of lost it, saying that he works HARD to try to get good deals for us, etc, etc, etc.

I should inform you that Primo pitches a major fit about once every 12 or 18 months. I guess we were due. At first, he freaked me out. I was raised in a low-drama home with nice, non-alcoholic parents who did not scream at their children.

I am not excusing his behavior. He is a grown man now and it doesn't matter how he was raised - he knows better.

And yet.

So at first I was freaked out when I saw his tantrums and I worried that I had caused them and then I thought BULLSHIT he is being completely irrational.

Still, I would try to reason him out of it and try to calm him.

A few years ago, I decided I was not doing that any more.

I decided this was his deal and had nothing to do with me so screw him. (I was pretty angry.)

I decided just to watch.

So this time, after trying reason once and having it be ignored, I just folded my arms and watched the clock.

He yelled some more and threw a 24-oz block of cheddar to the floor.

I laughed.

"You did NOT just throw cheese!" I said.

He still yelled.

I shrugged. OK. What.ever.

He kept yelling.

I said, "Don't yell at me. I am the ONLY person in your life who is not f'ing it up. And if it weren't for me, you would be completely screwed because you would still have to be working and working and dealing with your parents at the same time would be even more of a nightmare. So you just need to calm the f down."

I was detached yet angry. I mean, I was not taking his anger personally, but I was still pissed that I had to be involved in any way. Get angry if you want, Primo, but leave me out of it. I AM NOT THE PERSON WHO IS F'ING UP YOUR LIFE.

After about 20 minutes, he stopped ranting. He apologized. Admitted he was a jerk and I agreed.

"Why don't you just take out your anger at your parents ON your parents?" I asked.

I mean, don't you think that would be the logical thing to do?

In which Doris does not like Debbie's cooking and Sly and Doris once again have not made a plan

"How did it go with the caregiver?" I asked.

"She drove my dad to his appointment on Friday," Primo said.

"And the soup?"

Debbie had promised to make Sly and Doris some chicken soup with the chicken carcass left from the deli chicken Primo had bought.

Primo sighed. "My mom said she didn't rinse the vegetables."

"You mean the veg that were going into a hot broth?"

Primo sighs.

"How did it taste?"

Primo shook his head. "She didn't say."

"Is she coming again?"

"They have not asked her back. But my mom can't really drive. And my dad has to go to physical therapy."

"He can't drive, can he?"

"Not really."

"If only there were some kind of transportation service your dad could use."

"There is. I checked. The council on aging has a transportation service. I even saw the van in my mom and dad's neighborhood."

"Why don't they use it?"

Primo rolls his eyes. "Because my dad would have to wait. And he doesn't think he should ever have to wait for anyone."

In which Primo's sister prostitutes herself for drugs while Doris is hiding in the closet

Primo: My parents asked about the party. I told them we cancelled it. My mom asked if you were angry.

Me: And?

Primo: I told them it was your idea.

Me: She wanted to know if I was going to throw a hissy fit.

Primo: Because that's normal to her.

Me: Yep.

Primo: But they think that my cancelling the party because I am so tired from taking care of them -- that anything that happens to me -- doesn't count because everything they've gone through is worse.

Me: That doesn't invalidate your suffering.

Primo: My mom told me her lowest point with Nancy.

Me: Which was?

Primo: She was over at Nancy's apartment one day. A drug dealer my sister owed money to came over to collect payment.

Me: What?

Primo: Yeah. She shouldn't have to pay.

Me: Well of course she should! If you agree to pay money--

Primo: But it's illegal! If it's illegal, you shouldn't have to pay.

Me: If it's illegal, you probably don't want to go to the courts to enforce the contract, but sure, morally you owe the money if you have willingly entered into an agreement to buy drugs. Anyhow, what happened with your mom and Nancy?

Primo: The dealer came over. My mom had to hide in the closet while the dealer screwed my sister for his payment

Me: I don't even know what to say to that.

Primo: They were scared if the dealer knew my mom was there, he would kill her.