Sunday, June 21, 2009
So I'm in Trouble....that starts with T which rhymes...
I own a calendar. Several, in fact. Even if I didn't, the TV would certainly let me know, with commercials and such, that today is Father's Day: "Great Father's Day" sales here and there. I sent Dad a card. He's not really the flowers or gift-y kind. I even sent the card a couple of days EARLY so that he'd have it in plenty of time. The Boy and I are walking out the door and the phone rings. Parent's cell phone. We're walking out the door. I let it go. Cell phone rings. I'm about to be in a diesel truck with the windows down going 65 MPH for 45 minutes. It's not really a good time for a cell conversation.
Fast forward more time than I honestly thought it would be. The Boy and I have procured a delightful thing I've wanted for some time and at a price reasonable enough to be robbery. We make a stop on the way home and have a slight amount of diesel truck trouble. I get yet another call. I (mistakenly) answer it. Very irritated Mom wanting to know why I haven't called. I explain that now's not really a good time, which doesn't matter one iota. I say I'll call as soon as we get home, which again, doesn't matter one iota. Neither of us is particularly nice about it.
So we finally do get home, get situated and I call. Dad is quite happy to hear from me and he thinks the afternoon adventure (I skipped the car trouble bit) sounds grand. Dad, per his usual, is perfectly fine. I tell him about our adventure, he tells me about the festivities of a relative's wedding he and Mom attended this weekend. The whole time, I can hear Mom correcting everything he says. Then the dreaded words "Your Mother would like to talk to you". Uh huh. I'll bet she does. I get a good griping at for my earlier attitude and "sassy mouth". It's about all I can do to not say "hey, last I checked, I'm at adult, so you can stop acting like I'm not."
Because today's episode was not about what time of day I called for Father's Day. I talk to them on a regular basis and it's generally late afternoon/evening on Sunday. By my estimates, I had a few more hours. No today was my punishment for not going to the wedding. The wedding of a relative I've seen fewer than 10 times in my life. A relative who lives a fairly expensive plane ride away. But her Dad and my Mom are siblings and close. Which is lovely, but I feel doesn't really obligate ME to spend not a small amount of cash and a considerable amount of time going to this wedding. When plans were announced, Mom called to see what hotel we'd booked. She was pretty offended when I said "we haven't booked a hotel because we're not going. I have a huge project at work due right after that, so it's not a good time for me to take a few days off. That and it would be an expensive trip." No one seemed upset when I missed the wedding of a cousin on the other side of the family and they were less than 100 miles away.
Nope, my offense was not doing what Mom wanted when she wanted it done in the way she wanted. Two offenses really. Not going to the wedding and not calling Dad every hour on the hour. I've spent a lot of time feeling like what I did didn't quite measure up to expectations. I've about had it with that. I'm old enough to have paid off a few cars, have a mortgage, a job in a field I like (which I suppose makes it an Official Career). My friends seem to think I'm pretty OK and more days than not, my spouse agrees. I think if that's not acceptable for the 'rents, that's their problem, not mine.
Fast forward more time than I honestly thought it would be. The Boy and I have procured a delightful thing I've wanted for some time and at a price reasonable enough to be robbery. We make a stop on the way home and have a slight amount of diesel truck trouble. I get yet another call. I (mistakenly) answer it. Very irritated Mom wanting to know why I haven't called. I explain that now's not really a good time, which doesn't matter one iota. I say I'll call as soon as we get home, which again, doesn't matter one iota. Neither of us is particularly nice about it.
So we finally do get home, get situated and I call. Dad is quite happy to hear from me and he thinks the afternoon adventure (I skipped the car trouble bit) sounds grand. Dad, per his usual, is perfectly fine. I tell him about our adventure, he tells me about the festivities of a relative's wedding he and Mom attended this weekend. The whole time, I can hear Mom correcting everything he says. Then the dreaded words "Your Mother would like to talk to you". Uh huh. I'll bet she does. I get a good griping at for my earlier attitude and "sassy mouth". It's about all I can do to not say "hey, last I checked, I'm at adult, so you can stop acting like I'm not."
Because today's episode was not about what time of day I called for Father's Day. I talk to them on a regular basis and it's generally late afternoon/evening on Sunday. By my estimates, I had a few more hours. No today was my punishment for not going to the wedding. The wedding of a relative I've seen fewer than 10 times in my life. A relative who lives a fairly expensive plane ride away. But her Dad and my Mom are siblings and close. Which is lovely, but I feel doesn't really obligate ME to spend not a small amount of cash and a considerable amount of time going to this wedding. When plans were announced, Mom called to see what hotel we'd booked. She was pretty offended when I said "we haven't booked a hotel because we're not going. I have a huge project at work due right after that, so it's not a good time for me to take a few days off. That and it would be an expensive trip." No one seemed upset when I missed the wedding of a cousin on the other side of the family and they were less than 100 miles away.
Nope, my offense was not doing what Mom wanted when she wanted it done in the way she wanted. Two offenses really. Not going to the wedding and not calling Dad every hour on the hour. I've spent a lot of time feeling like what I did didn't quite measure up to expectations. I've about had it with that. I'm old enough to have paid off a few cars, have a mortgage, a job in a field I like (which I suppose makes it an Official Career). My friends seem to think I'm pretty OK and more days than not, my spouse agrees. I think if that's not acceptable for the 'rents, that's their problem, not mine.
