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Language Log

Thursday, Oct. 03, 2019 - 9:33 a.m.

There’s this thing my mom does. When I’m working on something and she can’t see me. (Yes I’ve used my name. All y’all know it already and the rest of you don’t give a fuck, amiright?)

*knock knock* Joanna?
*tap tap tap tap tap. tap-tap.* [shave and a haircut, two bits] Joannnnaaaa
Me: what
“Come on, let’s get going.”
I AM WORKING ON SOMETHING Jesus fucking Christ I don’t want to fucking go anyway fuck the fuck off

Ohhhh takes me right back to being 17 and getting yelled at only now I’m 45 and if you don’t want to wait on me go the FUCK HOME. It’s the same feeling I get when both boys are climbing on me and I’m about to have a meltdown from touch.

Or this morning. Took E to school, told her she didn’t need to stay all morning today she said ok but didn’t leave so I went on upstairs to work. U was awake but happy and busy and I can hear everything that’s going on downstairs even if no one can hear me screaming WHAT MOTHERFUCK at the top of my lungs back. Anyway.

*tap tap tap* Joaaaannnnnnaaaa
*tap tap tap tap tap* Joannnnnnaaaaaaaa

Tells me U is up and she’s going to leave and I’m like OK GO just fuck for fucks sake fucking GO. “But he’ll be by himself” YES. “He can’t get up there if he needs to.” I KNOW that’s the fucking point Jesus fuck.

Honestly is there any problem with leaving a 7 year old by himself in earshot while I do shit. Am I still expected to, what, sit there and stare at him while my brain rots? If he needs something I come down and the only reason he hasn’t come to get me is he’s waiting on you to leave too so GO THE FUCK AWAY.

Imagine being a mother, wanting to be loved, and the absolute most your adult child can muster is to accept your help even though she can’t stand your presence or your voice. Oh yeah I’ll take the convenience and the pie and I will use her for her love and give nothing back except the accepting of her help and not even that is very graciously or gratefully done. If I could just pay her to sit here with U and then fuck off promptly afterward with no expectation of conversation I would gladly do so.

I may be shit. What if my kids treat me that way? Well, tell ya what, I’ll totally understand and give what I want and stop if I don’t and not fucking worry. Because I’ll be too busy trying to write dirty graffiti in the nursing home bathroom to worry about it.

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