I think this is just a bad month for me. Earlier this week my mother broke the news that my dad and my brother were going on a fishing trip to South Dakota and they were leaving on Snowflake's birthday. I'd swear profusely at the moment, but I just don't have it in me. My brother the Pothead scheduled this little adventure.
This morning when I came into work I asked my dad if they were still going. It's a go. I commented that it was so nice of them to think of Snowflake and my dad inflated like a puffer fish on the verge of exploding saying how could someone possibly remember that. I said gee, I don't know, our family is so fricking huge and all.
I sat in my office wrapping presents and sobbing here and there. Then I get a hold of myself and think screw them. I know my problem is that I want to have strong family bonds and all I have is something loosely threaded together. It frays, I fray, more and more each day. I almost feel like I hate them. I hate my dipshit brother who never takes responsibility for his lack of memory. It's always, "doh! I spaced that out."
That is just not acceptable to me anymore at 33 years old.
Part of me is jealous because he thinks he is bonding with our dad, and they are in their own booze fueled haze. They will have their "good times", something to remember each other by. I have my memories and they suck.
So I carry on as the single parent. I love my bambino and I wouldn't miss anything in his life for the world.
