Jewish Guilt...The Nerve
So my mother is leaving for Vegas this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. My grandmother and her boyfiend (that's NOT a typo) are staying to house sit. My mother recommended I visit them at some point over the weekend to which I replied that I would Sunday night. A couple days later I was told they would be gone Sunday night so I should come another time...despite the fact that I was busy.
Mother dear explained to me that I really should hear the song Cat's in the Cradle when I stopped her and told her "Don't Cat's Cradle me." Her reply was that I better think about it.
So I came home for a couple hours and here I am dealing with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. And I'm bitter. I realize the reason I don't visit them or put any effort into seeing my grandmother is that I'm mad at her. I'm mad at my grandparents for moving away. I'm mad at my grandfather for dying and I'm most mad at her for staying in Palm Springs.
For my 17th Birthday she gave me a gift certificate to four hours of shopping with her. Shopping with my grandmother is TJ Max, it's Marshalls, it's Ross. It's not high price on Rodeo. Last year she shtooped me with a fifty and said here's for an hour.
I don't care about money at this point, I just want to spend four hours with my grandmother before time runs out.
Wait, we're reminiscing about that time she got tipsy at Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) and we discussed the locales of the conceptions of her four children. Oh dear. And now she's just asked if I think my young cousin (who worships Cher and women's shoes) is gay. Am I ever gonna tell her that?
Mother dear explained to me that I really should hear the song Cat's in the Cradle when I stopped her and told her "Don't Cat's Cradle me." Her reply was that I better think about it.
So I came home for a couple hours and here I am dealing with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. And I'm bitter. I realize the reason I don't visit them or put any effort into seeing my grandmother is that I'm mad at her. I'm mad at my grandparents for moving away. I'm mad at my grandfather for dying and I'm most mad at her for staying in Palm Springs.
For my 17th Birthday she gave me a gift certificate to four hours of shopping with her. Shopping with my grandmother is TJ Max, it's Marshalls, it's Ross. It's not high price on Rodeo. Last year she shtooped me with a fifty and said here's for an hour.
I don't care about money at this point, I just want to spend four hours with my grandmother before time runs out.
Wait, we're reminiscing about that time she got tipsy at Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) and we discussed the locales of the conceptions of her four children. Oh dear. And now she's just asked if I think my young cousin (who worships Cher and women's shoes) is gay. Am I ever gonna tell her that?