So Relieved
7.20.2006
Tuesday morning, I tracked down the phone number for my 95 year old Aunt Ruth. She is living with her daughter and their family and I really want to visit her soon (see: age). So I call and I get my cousin. He's 30 and has been a thorn in my side since we were kids. Let's take a short walk down memory lane:
Age 7: D trapped me in the bathroom at my aunt's house while everyone is outside and tells me that I can live off toothpaste and bathtub water for the 3 days it's going to take the locksmith to come let me out.
Age 9: D shot at me with a BB gun, yelling in his best Yosemite Sam voice "Dance Varmit!" and trying his darndest to shoot me.
Age 11: D waited quietly at the top of the "scary set" of stairs (there were 2) in my house while I fearfully climbed to the top. Just as I stepped onto the floor, D jumped out and screamed, going a little too far and wound up pushing me down a flight and a half of stairs. Injuries: You Bet.
After that my aunt moved to Ohio and I was free of the prankster. Until Tuesday. Tuesday he answered the phone and informed me that my aunt had died several weeks ago. I asked why no one had told me (or my other family memebers) and he casually suggested that maybe if we visited more often we would know these things, and basically hung up on me. I was shocked, and distraught. I cried all day, the guilt of not visiting the columbus area because I was afraid of the traffic hanging over my head. I'm sick about the whole thing.
Then yesterday, another aunt pops over and I tell her "Have you heard the news about Aunt Ruth?" and as I'm telling her what happened she stops me and says:
"She can't be dead. I talked to her Saturday."
vrrrp*
So yeah...my aunt isn't dead, and my cousin is an asshole. And I called and told him so.
"Donnie, I tip my hat to you my friend. You are the assholiest of all the assholes in assholia"
Arg.
*that record-stop sound when you have one of those "Say what?" kind of moments
Age 7: D trapped me in the bathroom at my aunt's house while everyone is outside and tells me that I can live off toothpaste and bathtub water for the 3 days it's going to take the locksmith to come let me out.
Age 9: D shot at me with a BB gun, yelling in his best Yosemite Sam voice "Dance Varmit!" and trying his darndest to shoot me.
Age 11: D waited quietly at the top of the "scary set" of stairs (there were 2) in my house while I fearfully climbed to the top. Just as I stepped onto the floor, D jumped out and screamed, going a little too far and wound up pushing me down a flight and a half of stairs. Injuries: You Bet.
After that my aunt moved to Ohio and I was free of the prankster. Until Tuesday. Tuesday he answered the phone and informed me that my aunt had died several weeks ago. I asked why no one had told me (or my other family memebers) and he casually suggested that maybe if we visited more often we would know these things, and basically hung up on me. I was shocked, and distraught. I cried all day, the guilt of not visiting the columbus area because I was afraid of the traffic hanging over my head. I'm sick about the whole thing.
Then yesterday, another aunt pops over and I tell her "Have you heard the news about Aunt Ruth?" and as I'm telling her what happened she stops me and says:
"She can't be dead. I talked to her Saturday."
vrrrp*
So yeah...my aunt isn't dead, and my cousin is an asshole. And I called and told him so.
"Donnie, I tip my hat to you my friend. You are the assholiest of all the assholes in assholia"
Arg.
*that record-stop sound when you have one of those "Say what?" kind of moments
Amelia at 11:42 AM
4 Comments:
"He's 30 and has been a thorn in my side since we were kids"
Not to be picky, but he was way passed kidhood while you were still in your prime. lol
lol well he was a teenager when I was in my prime. I guess that made me the perfect target. Plus, he only saw e a couple times a year.
Oh my, what an asshole! Seriously, that's horrible. Ouch.
Yeah....I think he was born a hateful grandpa. I told his mom on him (heh) he'll get something for doing it.
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