Monthly Archives: August 2015

Team McUseless Again

[Important background information:  One of the Olds and I greet each other by shouting “HI” followed by the person’s name as LOUDLY AS POSSIBLE EVERY SINGLE TIME ONE OF US COMES INTO A ROOM. IT IS FUNNY. Ish. Was probably funnier when we had only been doing it for like two days instead of a month, but, whatever. The purpose of the game is to scare and/or annoy one another; anyone else [i.e., the other Old] in the general area who is annoyed is a bonus.]
Time: This morning
Place: Living room
Players: Olds,  me
Old #1: I need to speak to the two of you about something.

(Old #2 and I exchange glances of trepidation)

Me: What?  I’m sure it’s Dad’s fault, not mine.

Old #1: No, it is BOTH of you.  It is about your noise level.

Old #2 [shouting even tho is 5 feet away]: WHAT??  WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT NOISE??? WHAT???

Me: [laugh laugh laugh]

Old #2: [laugh laugh laugh]

Old #2 and me: [laugh laugh laugh] WHAT?? WHAT??  WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!?! [laughs]


Me: What yelling?

Old #2: We don’t yell. What are you talking about?

Me: Last night? I wasn’t even up here.

2: No, she wasn’t

Me: Except that one time

2: Oh right,when I asked you to put the dog out.

Me: Maybe that was the yelling?

2: I don’t think so. Why would I raise my voice? I was right in the same room.

Me: I know.  We’re not deaf. Maybe mom is just too sensitive. And the dog could hear us.

2: I have no idea what your mother is talking about.
Me: Me either. What were we even saying?

1: [can barely speak bc totally suffused with fury] when. you. say. HI. It is TOO. LOUD.

2, Me: [confused, innocent, wide eyed looks] What? Huh? We can’t say hi now?
1: [no words. pure anger. shoulders and ears level with one another]
Me: I just don’t know how us, speaking in normal voices, could bother you all the way upstairs! [nods from #2] I know! Did you have your c-pap on?

1: [barely forced out] nooooo. maybe not.

Me: Oh! Well then! See!!  No WONDER you woke up!

2: That isn’t OUR fault!


2: You weren’t sleeping soundly then! Actually, you weren’t even REALLY asleep yet!

Me: Right!!! Also, the noise of it wasn’t covering up other sounds; usually the machine running blocks out noise!

2: True! So, if the machine wasn’t running, and you weren’t even asleep, then, why are you making us feel so bad??
Me: Also, it isn’t my fault that you sleep with the door open!

2: No, why should we be punished for that?

[neglecting to remember that he doesn’t close it either]

Me: AND: did you turn the fan on? Sometimes you forget to turn the fan on, and then, with the door open and no c-pap on, well—I just can’t see how this can possibly be our fault!

2: You could have turned on the fan!  Yes!

Me: Also, you could have gotten the one from Laura’s room AND turned that one on, couldn’t you?
2: Exactly! Two fans would have solved this whole issue!
Me: Did you have the fan on or not???

1: no. i didn’t. [white with rage. no visible neck. hair seems floaty as though might be standing oddly away from scalp]


[continuing on in this manner shouting over each other in a fearsome crescendo]
Old #1: never. mind.
Me, Old 2 exchange satisfied looks, nod, praise dog for jumping on Old 1, and ask Old 1 when she’s going to make us some more damn coffee.

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dirty ramblings

One of the many, many problems of living with one’s Olds is that one no longer has much choice about certain things. Although they are always very clear that this is my house too, and that I belong here and all of that, when it comes down to decisions about the house and its contents, I have no say.

Which is probably for the best most of the time, because I hated owning a home and having to do things like mow the yard and call plumbers and vacuum. It was all a lot of energy that I could have been putting somewhere more valuable, such as learning to get along with other people in a professional environment—-HA! Oh, that was a good one.

I have already mentioned the Olds’ new furniture idea. Nothing has changed yet, but at any moment a large truck could roar up and start unloading things. Because it is clear now that I will not be getting any warning about future home improvement products. For instance, a week ago, the Olds went out for the afternoon, and came back with a gleam in their eyes and expressions of utter satisfaction on their smug little faces.

“What did you do?” I demanded, breaking up their little whisper and giggle fest.
(I am not kidding when I say it is like living with 4th graders. Ones that drink vodka instead of juiceboxes, but still)

They both sit up straight, mentally smoothing down their straightjackets, and one of them says, in a not particularly friendly way:

“WE bought a washer and dryer!”

The other Old nodded and glared at me as if to say “YEAH WE DID, MOTHERFUCKER!!”

They seemed very defensive about it. “Oh, good” I said, carefully. “When is it being delivered?”

“On SATURDAY!!!!”, they crowed, arms crossed, with, I swear to god, some hair tossing. Well. Head tossing, to be more precise. Not a lot of hair to toss on one of them.

I looked from the burning gaze of one to the barely concealed eye rolls of the other. Unable to think of any safe reply, I backed away with what I intended to be a pleasant look on my face, and shot down the stairs to my lair. I listened intently for any explosions upstairs but heard only some slapping…..which was disturbing until, I realized they were high five-ing each other.
Which, was still disturbing. It was just the least upsetting thing that such a sound could ha—-ANYWAY.

I will not recount the actual delivery and installation of the new appliances, for it is too annoying and too early for vodka. But it is here, and apparently, it works. For everyone but me. I have now tried to do three loads of laundry and I have a feeling they will be my last. I could probably figure out all of the seventy million different settings if I tried; that’s not really the point. What is going to drive me the rest of the way out of my mind is how one of the Olds keeps trying to help me. She does this from a different floor of the house, by yelling instructions which I cannot hear and which make no sense anyway, and then she threatens, I mean, offers, to come up and “help” me. This counts as technology instruction and is therefore unacceptable.
I’m either going to have to start going to the laundromat or just wearing my clothes in the shower to get them clean.

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Filed under home life, olds