i’ll tell ya, there is nothing like having family visit and having it end up making my life miserable. my sister and brother-in-law are in town for the next few days. this is the semi-annual, long weekend visit that my sister makes now because dad is getting old and might pop his clogs at any moment. yes, i know i’m being flippant. i’m still somewhat annoyed from tonight’s visit.
really, this rant is probably no different from earlier rants, so you could always just go back and read one of my other blogs by either clicking on “ranting” or “dad” in my tag cloud.
first, there was the dreaded visit to my dad’s favourite restaurant, bob evans. where else could he go and be treated like a big shot? i’ll tell you, there’s nothing like sitting there and watching your father treat the wait staff more like family than his own grand children. he’s adopted yet another waiter as his “grandson”. sitting there listening to him, it was enough to make me want to throw up.
then as we were sitting there, me desperately wanting us to leave because the kids were getting restless, dad finally asks if we’re coming back to the house. now, some of you might remember that they’d had a fire in their garage some time around the beginning of the year, so we hadn’t been allowed over. well, actually, i don’t think we’d been over since around before christmas. even before the fire dad would come up with excuses about why we couldn’t come over. anyone remember “the cats won’t let us”?
anyway, he asks if we’re coming back to the house and i say yes, whatever. my mom answers, “kerry says ‘yeah, if we’re invited.'” all of a sudden dad gets this sort of pained look on his face and asks if i really said that. i sort of said out loud, but not loud enough for him to hear, ” i didn’t say it but i thought it.’
finally, we get to my parents’ house and the kids are all excited. they are always wanting to go over to grandma and grandpa’s house and we always have to say no. finally, we’re there! my youngest looks around when we get there and he keeps pointing out things that aren’t where he remembers them, mainly all the toys they used to have there are gone, now cluttering up our house. i have to tell him several times that whatever it is he’s looking for is at our house.
both boys have colds, too. i considered it a major achievement that the entire evening they covered their mouths whenever they coughed without anyone having to tell them to do it, because earlier in the day they were not only coughing without covering their mouths, but they were coughing in our faces and in each other’s. so of course my sister has to tell me that i need to get them to cough into their arms rather than their hands. she’s an adult, she knows how to keep her hands out of her mouth and to wash her hands. hell, she walks around with anti-bacterial wipes and anti-bacterial hand spray wherever she goes! i wouldn’t be surprised if she started pulling a michael jackson and started walking around with a surgical mask to avoid the germs.
oh, i forgot about my dad giving the kids ice cream without even asking me. when we first got to their house, he asked me if he could give them some peanut brittle. i said i would rather they didn’t have any candy, to which he gave me a pouty look and then proceeded to offer it to them anyway. it’s like, “if you’re not even going to listen to me, why do you bother asking?” joke was on him, though! neither of the boys wanted to touch the stuff. i was so not happy, but i didn’t want to cause a scene. all i really wanted to do was get out of there.
i finally say to hubby, “let’s go.” my dad, again, is not helpful. he starts his pouting and asking if we really have to leave. i swear i want to just strangle him sometimes. how are we ever supposed to keep to any kind of routine with him around. it is harder and harder for me to be around my dad anymore because he just makes me crazy. is it any wonder that my kids have complete meltdowns when we go to leave?
oh, and get this. my dad asked if we were all going to go to the art museum with them whenever it is they’re going. rofl! yeah, i’m going to take my kids to an art museum. i swear it’s like he’s never met his grandkids before. i guess it’s because they don’t work at bob evans.
here's my gripe... 
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