Why do I even bother?
So last night was as much fun as I anticipated. Well, the dinner was very good. I made some chicken breasts stuffed with prociutto, basil, sun dried tomatos and ricotta cheese. De-li-scious, even for the lousy vergetarian I am! Everybody liked it and said so. That was nice. People were in a good mood, my brothers did not argue at all, quite a miracle in itself.But of course, my Mom managed to criticize every little thing. Things are even worse when it has something to do with my father (they have been divorced for about 7 years). I get along fine with my dad and his girlfriend. They took us into their home for 3 months last year when our landlore decided to destroy our appartment (that's a whole other post subject). My dad has the most gorgeous garden, with lots of flowers and vegetables and herbs. My mom was the one taking care of it when they were together, but for the last 8 years or so, he took care of it by himself and has done a remarkable job. So, all this to say he gave me some pointers to start my own garden this year. He told me what kind of soil to buy, how to prepare the soil, etc. I did everything he told me to and when he came over last Friday, he told me everything looked great. See, it's not that complicated to compliment your child! My Mom took one look at our yard and told me all sorts of things I did not do right. I am sure she would have told me bad things too if I had asked her advice instead of my dad, but it seemed to push her even more to criticize since HE was the one that helped me. For goodness sake mom, you cheated on the man, you left him, you have no right to be mad at me for still listening to my dad's good advice and nice words. I find it so immature of her and I hate it when she puts us between them. I sound like a little child, but that's how she makes me feel.
On the other hand, my grandma was ok. She did not tell me anything mean. There was just this little comment about my belly... I have gained some weight since being on all these fertility drugs. I train a lot, eat right, but just can't seem to be able to lose those extra pounds. I am not ashamed of my love handles. I don't really care. My mom and brothers all are overweight and I consider myself lucky not to be like them, knowing how hard they struggle with it. My grandma always places a remark on the weight of one or another, you know, since she's so perfect and all. And last night it was my turn. She looked at my belly (which is not that round I swear!) and said "oh! you've got a belly!! Are you finally pregnant?" I aswered "nope, I'm just getting fat."
I don't know why I bother being nice to them and keep having them over for dinner. I am too kind I think. That makes me think of a story about my grandma.
My grandma has a very sensitive tongue. You put one drop of Tobasco sauce in the whole recipe and she turns red and screams "hot! hot! hoooot!!!" As I said, she likes to tell overweight people how fat they are. P is tall and heavy, but only because he has always done LOTS of sports. It's not fat, it's muscle. Anyway... he hates it when my grandma tells someone to lose weight or to eat less. One time, I was having them over for dinner and I was cooking some chicken with salsa. I asked P to go to the grocery store and buy some salsa. He knew perfectly well my grandma could not eat anything spicy. So he took 2 jars of hot salsa on purpose. He had this big grin on his face the whole meal. My grandma was all red and sweating and drinking glas after glass of water. So he had a small revenge. Come to think of it, me too.
posted by Kiwi at
9:30 PM
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