Thought of the day: Parents are Crazy
I gave a tiny little class on how to use Photoshop to one of my mom's friends yesterday. My mom was supposed to be downstairs with the kids making sure they stay out of trouble, however she couldn't resist and spent the whole time with us. Meanwhile, Isabella took her diaper off, peed all over the place and climbed behind the TV and played with all the cords, other than that, I guess they didn't need supervision. My mom is very jealous of Photoshop use. I've tried to teach her before, but she is so impatient and her listening skills are zero, making her less than trainable. Her friend, Sandy, however, was quite the opposite and will be pretty good at Photoshop someday. My mom was horrified by my office, and decided I HAD to clean it before her friend got there. Which is the pot calling the kettle black because she is quite the cluttermonger herself. So she was supposed to come over and watch the kids before she went out to lunch with her friends so I could focus on my office. She came over so late that she only gave me twenty minutes before she would have to leave again. And she didn't even watch the kids, Isabella was napping and she was ignoring Gabe's whines so that she could 'clean' my kitchen table. Let me tell you her method of cleaning: She pushed everything on the table to the inside of the table, leaving about one foot all the way around. Then she took cleaner and sprayed about every four inches all the way around and wiped it with a paper towel. She just grabbed the first cleaner under the sink, which she thought was just some random generic cleaner, but it was actually a very concentrated degreaser. Since she used so much of it, and it was so concentrated, my arm was actually kind of glued to the table when I sat down. So I had to reclean it when she left. So I actually cleaned all the clutter off the table first and then I added a bunch of water to the table to bring the concentration down to a non-industrial level. I did this over and over again and it would just foam and foam. My mom really thinks she is helping. Whenever she unloads the dishwasher, she just puts the dishes wherever. So then I have to go on a three day search for all of my stuff after she leaves. I know that she is equally frustrated with me. One time she came to visit and she was all, "Grr, where's your toilet paper! I looked everywhere!" I'm all, "There are thirty rolls under the sink, did you look there?" She's all, "Oh, I didn't look under there." I'm thinking, that's the only place you could look. And that is actually where she keeps her toilet paper. I'm just facinated by people's relationships with their parents especially mothers and daughter and fathers and sons. I think on some level the parent is always thinking, 'why isn't this person more like me?' and 'I'm the parent, they are the kid, how can they be better than me at this?' Because your parents are proud of you and jealous of you and trying to protect you at the same time. Which is why mom my encourages me and discourages me all at the same time. I think that is why they are all crazy. I mean seriously, have you ever gotten off the phone with one of your parents and thought, "Dude, they are crazy!" But if you had the fleeting thought that your parents aren't crazy, then you have actually become too much like them, and you yourself have begun to take on their insane characteristics. But I mean, that's just me talking. I know my mom is crazy, do you?
posted by Stacy @ 8:39 AM
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