send lawyers, guns & money!

knew it was too good to be true. After actually having a quiet night the evening before, we were due.

Wanted to get home n' watch a documentary on The Gates @ 7. THAT was a howl!!! @ first I thought they were ridiculous, but my cynicism was rendered inactive when I actually saw them. Wow. Art for art's sake!!!

But I digress. Walked into the house n' not a creature was stirring. Remember this IS Toxichouse, where up is down and down is up, i.e. we sleep by day to stay up too late. Spike asleep on the couch, Sybil upstairs. Ahhh togetherness. Unfortunately this was not to last. In our ever increasing bid to define dysfunction, Sybil had Keith wake her up @ 7 for an Avon meeting. Don't supervise homework, don't cook, forgot how to spell "clean," but empower your son to parent you.

While leaving, let loose with a spate of expletives, why don't you_______(activities to occupy Keith). Good to order others/dodge any sort of personal responsibility. Thank God I was there. Pulled Keith aside and had a Father/Son. Explained I love his Mother dearly, but have no room in my life for Mental Patients. Likewise, apologized that he needed to be present when Sybil runs me into the ground in the presence of her groupies, as well as when It feels the need to let loose a string of expletives aimed at yours truly. Closed discussion with explanation that making the bed, housekeeping is not a child's responsibility, that his job is to be a child.

Of course It returned. Unfortunately. @ this point Keith asked why It couldn't pick up after Itself, esp candy wrappers (it really IS a slum). Needless to say this was met with screaming, i.e. "why can't YOU vacuum..... (fill in expletives, ALL of them)" What is truly frightening, aside from the hurt from the bile spewing from Its mouth, is that It is a trained counselor/social worker. You'd think It would see It's continuing the cycle of her dysfunctional youth-mom a shipwreck/grandmom a shipwreck. It cared for both. Sure this never comes up in counseling. Really a tragedy, for Keith and I.

Glad I had alone time with him-like he couldn't have figured it out, but it helps to have one sane (?) party involved.

So...@ 10:10 pm the vacuum was going, @ 10:30 It cooked him dinner. Need I say more?????

Which brings us to: ST.Francis!!!!!!! God bless the line. Life may go to hell in a handbasket, but one foot goes in front of the other, get them there miles!

Pray for Keith. A better human has never been born, he deserves me.


...send lawyers, guns n' money.....