|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|Oh yeah. Now I remember what I was going to write about when I wrote whatever crap I wrote yesterday and then deleted it!
My niece spent the night with my mother a couple nights back. She's 15. (my niece, not my mother). The next morning, my mother got up at about 6:30 a.m.. She made breakfast. At about 7, she noticed that the kid is still sleeping (DUH!!) so she woke her up. At 7 a.m., on a summer's morning. So, the kid is sitting on the sofa, just kinda vegging. And, my mom makes her get dressed. She gets dressed and resumes vegging. My mom makes her eat breakfast. She eats and vegges some more. My mom is pissed because there is no scintillating conversation coming out of this tired, cranky teenager.
When I questioned my mother about the whole "WHY" of this - she said she remembered when I was little, that there was no sleeping in on the weekends. That we were too busy cleaning, and doing our chores... Hello! Aren't you the one who is always wondering aloud as to why, as an adult, I would rather play and have fun than clean my apartment??? Aren't you always aghast at how late my kidlet sleeps in?
The whole story just brought up so much stuff memory-wise. Growing up my brother and I were treated pretty much like non-people. TV sets were turned off mid-show - telephones were hung-up mid-conversation, loud sex was had in the same room where we slept...
My mother still gets a puzzled expression on her face when I ask my daughter's opinion about something she might like to do. She truly doesn't get it when I sometimes defer to my daughter on some issue. She's a child after all - she doesn't count.
Perhaps that's one of the reasons for so many years, that I needed to see myself in the mirror - actually find a mirror and look into it - to prove to myself that I existed.....
p.s. my daughter LOVES to wash dishes, vacuum and clean her room - MAYBE because she wasn't treated like a farm-hand..... Ya think??
SLAY ON BUFFY!!
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
One Last Bitchfest for the Road
Get the Popcorn Ready
I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|