Monday, April 13, 2009

Treated Like a Stepchild

One of my all-time favorite things to do is ponder the dysfunction that is my family. Holidays provide the perfect opportunity to sit back and watch said dysfunction in action.

Yesterday, for Easter, my mom, brother and sister-in-law came over to watch SB hunt for eggs, then have a family meal together. They were actually all on pretty good behavior, aside from the normal freakishness. My mother, who was only supposed to bring a turkey (because I absolutely refuse to stick my hands inside a turkey carcass to get the stuff they stick in there out. You know, the giblets and all that crap), brought 3 boxfuls of food, specifically JUNK food, including: 4 chocolate bunnies, an unnaturally yellow chocolate duck that looked like it belonged in the bath tub, 4 bags of different flavored potato chips, a jar of salsa, a tub of nacho cheese dip, a tub of onion dip, 2 trays of baklava (her specialty), 3 unopened bottles of salad dressing (even though no one had prepared a salad) and a cherry cheese cake. Plus boiled asparagus. My brother arrived in his typical fashion- about 20 minutes late. His wife, as usual, knew everything about everything.

It's inevitable that at some point, argument (albeit good-humored and judgment-free) ensues. This time, my mother and brother were arguing about when my brother acquired his first computer. My mom announced that it was a first communion present, so age 7. My brother Joe disagreed, claiming that he already had a computer before she bought the Commodore 64 that was his first communion present.

As they went back and forth, recalling completely unrelated events that occurred in relative proximity to the first communion, I wondered what I had received for my first communion. If Joe got his own brand new computer, then I must have gotten something really special too! I remember getting ready for the big day, my mom dragged out her curling iron that I was only allowed to use for special events, to straighten my curly bangs (seriously, Mom, who gives a kid with curly hair bangs? That's just cruel.). I remember the dress I wore- a white frilly number with a red velvet belt. But I didn't remember any present.

So I asked. And was answered with a blank stare (and believe me, if anyone recognizes a blank stare, it's me after working for nearly 2 years with the master of blank stares). Then the following conversation commenced:

"OH MY GOD, MOM, YOU NEVER GOT ME A FIRST COMMUNION PRESENT, DID YOU?"

"Well, you had your first communion in Illinois, they let you come back for it."

(Ignoring that her last statements made no sense whatsoever)"WHO CARES WHERE I HAD IT, YOU NEVER GOT ME ANYTHING! AND YOU GOT JOE HIS OWN COMPUTER!"

"We moved to Maryland right afterwards." This was said in a tone of voice that implied that it was supposed to make me feel better.

"SO THAT WAS MY PRESENT? MOVING TO MARYLAND? BEING WHIPPED AWAY FROM MY SCHOOL AND ALL MY FRIENDS TO SOME STRANGE PLACE? WHILE JOE GOT A FREAKING COMPUTER? NO FAIR!"

By this time, my mother, completely unaffected by her blatant lack of fairness, was laughing too hard to formulate a response. I'm glad that the double standard that she called parenting was funny to her.

"You owe me a computer."

Technically, she owes me a lot more, because this was 23 years ago, so some kind of interest should apply. She better pay up. Or else.

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