Monday, March 29, 2010

"Hey I Think Thats Mine!"

I am two weeks from turning 25 and two days from closing on a sad little split level house in a sad little suburb with an HOA that I am sure will day by day chip off little pieces of my soul. My husband is a hobbyist musician, but by day he builds electronics for government contract and by night he has epic battles in some very popular virtual kingdoms. I want to say this, before anyone gets the wrong I idea, I adore my husband. James is big and soft and warm and safe. He is endearingly nerdy and clueless and makes me smile every morning. This man, unlike most people I know, is growing and changing and becoming a better person a little more each day. We are married but, going along with the rest of our unglamorous life, haven't had a wedding. We jumped the gun because I had spent the last ten years barely insured and I really needed to visit a doctor. I never second guess marrying my husband, he is one of the most wonderful things that has ever happened in my life.

That being said lets get to the other less wonderful things. I spend every day taking abuse from a 93 year old woman. She isn't even my blood relative and some days I really don't know what stops me from forgetting to lock the basement door and letting her know that her beloved sweaters are down there. My days with Alice [James paternal grandmother] consist of feeding, medicating, and mopping. I apologize in advance for the visual but you have to understand, when you are 93 you leak. I am in a constant state of worry that no matter how much bleach I use my home will always have the slight aroma of urine floating about. This would be less aggravating to me if the poor leaky old woman I cared for was sweet and kind and called people honey child and pinched their cheeks.

That is not Alice. In the last year of our cohabitation she has been something resembling kind perhaps a half a dozen times. Every one of these has been paired with a day long request for something she is forbidden to have.
"Give me some scissors"
"No Alice, you cut yourself, tell me what you need snipped and I will do it"
"You look pretty today Salami.... somebody took my scissors, give me some"
This also illustrates another wonderful facet of Alice's personality. I like to call it "Hey, I think that's mine!" There has yet to be a full day that I or my husband, or my friends and family are not accused of stealing something from my dear Grandmother in law. Usually it is one of her 30+ sweaters, or perhaps the couch she gave her granddaughter. She is sure we have stolen her cookies, her pants, her dishes. She once sold a lawn mower and then reported it stolen and collected the insurance money. We like to say that because she grew up during the depression she just knows the value of what she has, but deep down I know that her greedy accusing manners aren't so admirably explained.
This past January it was my husbands birthday and I made the mistake of reminding Alice. She decided that she was going to give him a card and so I purchased one for her and she signed her name. Then she proceeded to argue with me because I was cooking dinner and couldn't leave again to break one of her $20s and she refused to give him any more than $10. She finally relented when I told her he was coming up the drive and she could give him $20 or nothing but she had better do it fast.

Alice is not all paranoia and incontinence though. She can be amusing, unfortunately it is generally at her expense and not her wit. Believe me when I say I could go on for pages on the many gnarled and spiteful faces of Alice, and know I most likely will in time. For now the beast rumbles and her breakfast and pills must be prepared lest I suffer her wrath.

1 comment:

Josh said...

lol I'm your first follower. And I will be there on june 5th!!!
I miss you both so so much