Return of the Hepegonalsyphilaides
I guess there just comes a time in every young woman's life when she has to write her mother an angry letter asking why she was never told about the AIDS baby.
No wait, that came out wrong. Let me start over.
So, my mother called me today. All of you who are like, "This can't end well," you are bitter cynics and none of you are even nearly creative enough to call this shit. I mean, hell.
Anyway, she's all like, you should make your uncle a postcard, he's in the hospital. And I was sympathetic and understanding because he's getting up there in the years and has never exactly treated himself well. And then:
Me: That's too bad. I hope he gets better.
Mom: Yes, but well, what with him having Hepatitis C you know...
Me: Oh yes... wait, WHAT?
Mom: Oh, did I never tell you?
No Mom. No you didn't tell me. What the fuck. And way to completely dance around the way people get Hepatitis. And she was all like:
Mom: Hepatitis is just something you have to live with, Captain P. (my father's close friend from Fl.) and Mary (his wife) do...
Me: Wait, what? Didn't they just have a baby? (And in my head I was like, OMGWTFAIDSBABY!!!)
Mom: No, no, the baby's fine.
Yes, rest assure people, the baby is fine. But my uncle's been in the hospital since Sunday, and nobody could go visit him until today since my grandmother has Alzheimer's (I do not even want to talk about how much "guess the vowel" I had to play with spell check just now. Just no.) and can't drive herself and my cousin had to work since her damn mother sold her house and moved to Michigan and the lease ends in a week at which point my cousin will literally have no where to live and so she took my grandmother to go stay with Aunt Val (note: Aunt Val is totally not really my aunt) who also can't drive anywhere since she was in the hospital herself last week getting the cataracts taken out of her eyes.
Let me note again: I WAS TOLD NONE OF THIS BEFORE AN HOUR AGO.
And I'm totally not even well enough to feel sorry for anyone yet. Right now I'm still too WTFish. And not in the, "I can't believe this is happening! Why does God punish good people!" way like a Hallmark movie. More a, "OMG THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING!!!" sort of way. Like when I was like, ten, and my mother claimed my uncle had just moved and that was why we didn't see him when we visited everything else. And then a year later I found out he was in prison. And then everything went, "Click, of course!"
I hate everything.