We’re back to another Monday. The sun is shining over us, but there’s some clouds moving in. Mom is having a smoke on the back patio, getting a bit of the outdoors while the weather allows. I don’t really blame her. The weather forecast says we can expect the rain to move in this afternoon. Get that sunshine while you can.
Our trip to the Compound was just … everything. Brian’s mother is loud and has no volume control. She gave Mom a headache. His father is loud, but that usually happens only when Brian’s mother is screeching across the house to repeat some story or ask the same question for the third time. Their friend is there. She’s telling us stories about her friends and family as though everyone knows exactly who everyone is, even though half of these characters have been dead for 40 years. There’s also a non-zero chance that we’ve already heard the story at least once before and OMG NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR HUSBAND BEING SENT TO WORK IN THUNDER BAY.
And we absolutely can’t forget this gem: she’s not racist. In fact, she can’t be racist, because she’s Canadian. They weren’t brought up that way; they didn’t treat the colored people any different than the white folks.
No one dropped the n-word during casual dinner conversation again, so I guess I should count my blessings.
You can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family
Ain’t that the truth. I can tolerate the weekly bullshit, but that’s about it. Anything more and I’d probably have to find some way to avoid dealing with them all.