Mother called me today to ask how the job hunt is going. She isn't pressuring me to hit the pavement, you know. She's just checking. She tells me. Anyhow, apparently Father doesn't want me to get a job at all (although the message he left calling me 'holiday' suggests otherwise). He says if I don't find a job I'll come back home sooner. Mother disagrees with him, she says I'll be happier here. Don't mistake this for decency on her part. She's kissing up to me only because dad's mad that her makeshift wheelchair is cutting through the floorboards in our house. That would be the office chair that my crippled mother (her words, she suggested using them in job interviews for pity points) uses to scoot around the plywood floors in our house (father never got around to finish building our place of residence) causing it to rip up in large sliver chunks. Home sweet home.
Also one day fat brother was lifting weights in the living room (as you do) and dropped 50 pounds causing a failure shaped hole in the floor. He also blew out the back window of his pickup truck yesterday chuckin' wood in the box. Thankfully that is not a euphemism. 'Slim' (an ironic nickname until the anorexia kicked in) is just a colossal idiot who has recently announced that he's not coming to my convocation ceremony due to the dangers of swine flu. Thanks brother!
And apparently my father was talking to the Lebanese man who works down at the Horizon Pizza and Steakhouse and told him that he doesn't mind if I'm not married when I have kids, he just wants grandchildren as soon as possible. It's okay to be a whore, as long as you get knocked up! Pops is tolerant far beyond his years.
Khaki and white oh my!
Pops is on the right. Our neighbour Gilbert is on the left. They're making bales.
Finally, little brother is cruising along in grade 10 math at a whopping 52% and in order to keep his grades at such heights mother has taken to bribing him. For instance, when he came home from badminton practice drunk last week she 'bribed' him but not telling dad. Also, if he gets his marks up even further he can go to prom party. By the time she's through with him little brother will be an average student as well as a 15 year old alcoholic.
Well that's all the news from the home front, but mother usually calls twice daily so I'll keep you posted.
Keep on keeping on,