musings on the elderly, and why they deign to make my life miserable
so, in recent developments, my nana has crossed the pond and is staying with us for the next two weeks. i can bearly contain my enthusiasm. now don't get me wrong, i love my nana dearly, and i hate to be one of those people who can't stand their grandparents because they're old and senile, but in all honesty, in the two days that she's been here, she has succeeded in driving me completely up the wall.
once upon a time, i looked forward to my nana's visits, because when we were younger they always meant that we would get spoiled rotten with treats, presents, chocolate from england that we can't get over here, and crazy stories about her growing up in india and going to boarding school, and so on and so forth. however, lately it seems as though nana is less about treats and spoiling, and more about reprimanding us for every minute aspect of our lives. (by us i mean my sisters and i, as my parents are exempt from such capital punishment by virtue of the fact that the horrible, ungrateful children give them enough grief as it is, according to nana.)for example, just today, a brief foray from my room into the kitchen earned me no less than three harsh chastisements! topics included, but were not limited to: the ungodly state of my bedroom, the amount of time I spend on the phone, and (an old favorite, and the typical fallback option when nothing more pertinent presents itself) how much better we would be if we had just stayed in England and been brought up properly, instead of turning into lazy Americans. Now, I am probably the farthest thing from a red-blooded Yankee possible while still living in the country, but this offends me slightly. First of all, none of us had any choice in coming here, I was five years old when we moved, and they generally don’t put decisions like that in the hands of five-year-olds. Second of all, there is no evidence to suggest that we would have turned out any differently had we stayed in England. Third, and finally, even if we had grown up different people had we still lived there, guess what, we didn’t, this is how we are now, and no amount of griping is going to change that, so she should just accept it for what it is and move on. I mean honestly, it’s not our fault we live here, and it’s too late to do anything about it now anyway, so why bother giving us grief about it? And I get the whole “why can’t you be good, British children?” speech at least three times a day, so it has a habit of wearing on the nerves after a while. And my parents are completely out of the question, their response is “she missed you terribly when we moved, and she’s lonely.” Alright, she misses us, can’t she just say that instead of nagging all the time? It just makes me so angry when she harps on about unchangeable inevitabilites. *throws up hands in frustration and is unable to write more due to sheer volume of impassioned anger*
once upon a time, i looked forward to my nana's visits, because when we were younger they always meant that we would get spoiled rotten with treats, presents, chocolate from england that we can't get over here, and crazy stories about her growing up in india and going to boarding school, and so on and so forth. however, lately it seems as though nana is less about treats and spoiling, and more about reprimanding us for every minute aspect of our lives. (by us i mean my sisters and i, as my parents are exempt from such capital punishment by virtue of the fact that the horrible, ungrateful children give them enough grief as it is, according to nana.)for example, just today, a brief foray from my room into the kitchen earned me no less than three harsh chastisements! topics included, but were not limited to: the ungodly state of my bedroom, the amount of time I spend on the phone, and (an old favorite, and the typical fallback option when nothing more pertinent presents itself) how much better we would be if we had just stayed in England and been brought up properly, instead of turning into lazy Americans. Now, I am probably the farthest thing from a red-blooded Yankee possible while still living in the country, but this offends me slightly. First of all, none of us had any choice in coming here, I was five years old when we moved, and they generally don’t put decisions like that in the hands of five-year-olds. Second of all, there is no evidence to suggest that we would have turned out any differently had we stayed in England. Third, and finally, even if we had grown up different people had we still lived there, guess what, we didn’t, this is how we are now, and no amount of griping is going to change that, so she should just accept it for what it is and move on. I mean honestly, it’s not our fault we live here, and it’s too late to do anything about it now anyway, so why bother giving us grief about it? And I get the whole “why can’t you be good, British children?” speech at least three times a day, so it has a habit of wearing on the nerves after a while. And my parents are completely out of the question, their response is “she missed you terribly when we moved, and she’s lonely.” Alright, she misses us, can’t she just say that instead of nagging all the time? It just makes me so angry when she harps on about unchangeable inevitabilites. *throws up hands in frustration and is unable to write more due to sheer volume of impassioned anger*