Argh, life!
First off, being sick is no fun, and I really should know better than to visit sick friends given that I take immunosupressent medication. But, no, apparently I wanted to share in the fun. *sigh* I can be dim, sometimes. So I lost a few days to shivering under blankets and eating soup...and watching television, mostly Air Emergency and Seconds From Disaster. Ah, nothing like a morbid interest in disasters to cheer one up. Or something.
But no sooner was I well than my parents decided to come down for a visit, which is fine, except that their visiting always involves spending time with my grandparents, who drive me up the wall. If they could just grasp that people can have different opinions without moral superiority getting involved, I wouldn't dread spending time at their house. But with my grandparents, especially my grandmother, everything is a moral issue. And I do mean everything. Like mustard on your sandwich instead of butter? Yep, that's a moal issue, because all normal/good/sane/righteous/whatever people like butter. Butter is the superior choice. Don't want your roast beef warmed up in the microwave? What's wrong with you? Don't like sweets? Are you sure? Maybe you could try and like them so you'll be one of the normal/better/whatever people. ARGH!!!!!!
And that was just dinner. She also kept having opinions on what my parents were doing with the stuff that they'd stored in the basement there before I was born. Not in the sensible, so when are you getting that junk out of my basement kind of way, but in the "oh, that's only a little musty, I'm sure you could give it to Goodwill" kind of way. WHY!? How did my father grow up and not commit matricide? It would be a justifiable homicide, it really would. Trust me, if you spent more than an hour with my grandmother, you, too, would want to kill her. I know, I can't grasp the pain that she is in a few little examples on the internet, but imagine every single decision you make from what you put on your sandwich, to the clothes you wear, to what you're doing with old musty crap from the nineteen seventies being evaluated as to its acceptability...how long could you stand it before you wanted to scream? And he grew up with her. O.o And he's sane. O.o
I know, I make it sound like I never spent time with them before, but every time I do, I go away with the same amazement. Family, the people you're stuck with. -_-
Though sorting through odd old boxes of stuff with my parents was kind of fun. Even they didn't remember what they'd stored there ages ago, so it was a bit of a treasure hunt in some ways: Look, old books from school. Oh, I forgot about these dishes. Hey, that's what happened to my silk screening stuff. That part was fun. So was spending time walking through the nice old neighborhood near where I live with them. Basically, every part of the visit that didn't involve my grandmother was fine.
*sigh*
Ah, well, my grandparents are making their annual pilgrimage to Branson in a couple weeks, and my parents are coming down again while they're gone. And we will be able to enjoy a sane weekend of spending time together doing stuff. ^_^