tripperfunster

yay! Home safe and sound! Man, I hate flying! *grumbles incoherently about gravity* As a famous comedian once said, "If God had meant for me to fly, he would have bought me the tickets." :D

My mother: *sigh* Suffice to say, that although she is basically a nice person, she has a way of letting you know that you are not good enough. I find it annoying/amusing when it comes to me and Lance, but I find it rage inspiring when she does it to my kids. And she does it in a passive/agressive way that is a bit hard to call her out on, because each statement is mild, but they build up to a big case of SMACK A BITCH.

All my life she has put my father first (before herself too,) and she has continued on that tradition with her new husband. Lucky for us, he is a kind, gentle man (instead of the boor that my dad is) so again, it's a bit easier to take when said man doesn't have a bionic case of entitlement. Little things, like: "Leave the biggest pork chop for Jack!" or: "Turn the TV down, it's too loud for Jack!" or my fav from this trip:
Mom:I don't know what you guys want for lunch, and I'm not going to make it.
Me and my brother: Okay.
Mom: You can just find something, and make it yourself, because I don't feel like making it.
Me and my brother: ... okay mom. I'm sure we can handle it.
Mom: No, really, all the fixings for sandwiches are right here, but I'm not making them for you.
Me and my brother: .... *look at each other* ....
Mom: Jack? What do you want me to make you for lunch?

Keep in mind, I live 1000 miles away from her. She only sees me and my husband and her ONLY grandkids once or twice a year. It's not like we're dumping the kids off on her and using her as free babysitting or anything.

And this trip, for some reason, the downstairs neighbour decided we were making too much noise, and came up and complained. I *think* he was mistaken, because he complained that we made too much noise the night before as well, and um ... yeah, we weren't even home all evening, so perhaps someone else around him was bouncing a ball (which he accused us of), but anyhoo, basically, we were only allowed to frickin' TIPTOE quietly in stocking feet all frickin week because this dude complained.

Needless to say, I'M GLAD TO BE HOME! (I won't even bother posting about my father.)

Alas, the week was rather pron free, but I did manage to do a bit of sketching. And if you've made it this far, I will reward you with some Snarry art.

BTW, Harry and his broken leg are doing quite well. He's even putting weight on that leg, despite the dr.'s orders not to. I'm taking him to a pediatric orthopedic specialist tomorrow, so hopefully they will be able to tell if he'll need a cast all summer or not.