Sunday, March 11, 2007

White Trash

We celebrated my Dad's birthday this weekend with dinner at the folks house. Though I didn't get a chance to ask my SIL and Brother if they were pleased, I certainly was happy we weren't having grease on noodles (spaghetti), grease in a taco shell (tacos) or grease over Fritos (taco pie). Instead we had ham. I did find it odd that instead of birthday cake we had brownies and pumpkin pie.

And yes, it is a week into March and the Christmas lights are STILL hung outside. They did remove the plastic Santa from the yard, so I guess that's one good thing.

While we were sitting around the table after dinner, which is pretty much what we do at their house, sit at the kitchen table and talk, I asked when they were going to take the lights down. My Dad said instead of taking them down he was going to plug them in and add a sign saying this is Creative Kerfuffler's parents' house. Oh, how proud I'd be.

During the same discussion my Brother asked why my sister kept her apartment if she was living at home, or something to that effect. Her answer, which is the answer/excuse my Mom has been giving as well, is that she gets lonely. However, my sister has upped that ante a bit. Now, not only is she bi-polar but she has seasonal depression disorder (self diagnosed) and gets depressed and lonely in the winter. I told her to turn on a light and my Brother told her to get some ferns. : ) We're so helpful like that.

During the course of the evening my Mom said she just wished we could find my Sister a husband. I didn't say a word but several thoughts ran through my mind. Ok, she's related to me and I love her, but I don't like her at all. I don't know many single guys to begin with, but of the ones I do I wouldn't be mean enough to try to set them up with her. She's almost 27, never been married, two kids from two Dad's (one she's not quite sure of the father) and has loads of emotional/mental problems. Yeah, I'm going to find her a husband. Then I felt like saying, uh, Mom, it's not like having a husband did you any good (except for having two cool kids), why do you think that would help her??

It should be noted that when I was in college and had broken up with The Hubs my Mom made the statement to him that if I didn't wise up and get back together with him she hoped he'd wait for my Sister. I'm going to puke.

She also is thinking of having a weight loss procedure, not gastric bypass like others in my family have done, but something involving a lapband. This of course turned into a lap dance discussion and then we discovered that there actually are strip exercise classes and my SIL mentioned she saw an ad in the paper for your own strip poles. Wow, who knew?

The Hubs and my Uncle had a discussion about the things that need fixed at my folks house. First the Uncle said it needs a coat of paint, which is true, but pretty impossible to do seeing as how a lot of the wood is rotten. There's a mattress and box springs lying in the yard, a heap of God knows what piled in the backyard, not to mention the wood pile, metal shed bulging with junk and overgrown bushes and weeds. My Uncle said underneath the house is a mud pit because they have so many leaks that have gone unchecked for years.

To brighten things up The Hubs pointed out that if, when the folks kick the bucket, they split the house between the three kids we'd end up losing money just to get rid of the thing. How do grown people get to that level of white trashiness?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

your parents know about your blog??? do they read it??

and all i have to say about the previous two entries is Oh dear!

creative kerfuffle said...

No, the folks don't know about my blog--think of their humiliation!!! My Dad said MY name, which we don't say here : ) And as for the OH MY on the last two entries, is that because TMI? If so, sorry if I've offended anyone. Pretend you don't know me : )

Anonymous said...

So glad that it was not a grease dinner! And the stripper pole article was in the GSO newspaper on Sat. I have not been researching this!
SIL