December 30, 2011

  • Unexpected Conversations

     

    TALES FROM THE BRAT FARM

    I started feeling better later yesterday evening so I decided to take a much needed shower and change my clothes.  I had been running a fever and then had the chills.  You just might be able to imagine how I felt I smelled.  My hair needed washing, too.  I got that done while my daughter was attending to her Starfleet ships (don't ask).  Afterward, my daughter (Buttmunch) got to see the *wounds* I was attending to and was horrified.  I told her she should have seen them at their worst.  She questioned some of my tactics but then realized that I was doing what was required to optimum healing of the different wounds.

    When she saw my right foot, she immediately said, *Mom, you've got something broken there.  You can tell by the black and blue circle there*, as she pointed to it.  I told her that I was pretty sure I had SEVERAL broken or fractured bones in my foot just by the way it feels when I walk on it.  Then she wanted to know when I was scheduled to see my doctor.  I told her my plan and also told her if I died suddenly from a blood clot or something like it, she was to make sure my doctor was sued.  When she asked why, I told her the problem with trusting a doctor is you don't usually question things they do.  However, he never....NEVER...x-rayed my feet and he should have.  Just my age dictated he should have done that as a protection for both of us.  I'm sure he will say I need to go see the orthopedic doctor as soon as he sees the x-rays I am going to insist on having.

    So, she takes care of her game thing and gets her ships back home and then we start to talk.  A commercial about crack cocaine comes on and I think about the Golden Child and what a waste that was.  She starts to cry because she tried several times to get her sister to come live with her and go to rehab to get away from it.  But, no, she couldn't give up the crack...not for any person or any reason.  She preferred her crappy life of hooking for money to feed her habit.

    The sad part is that we are talking about someone who was truly a natural beauty.  Fantastic eyes.  Clear skin (when she wasn't heavy into crack).  Gorgeous long hair.  Chewlee's hair reminds me of the Golden Child.  She has missed out on that fantastic little person and the Princess, too.  WE raised the Princess and then adopted her.  She is the one that told her mother she would NEVER know her granddaughter.  The Princess detests drugs.  She saw what it did to her mother.

    I watched Buttmunch crying over the loss of her sister and told her, *You saved YOURSELF and that's the most important thing.  You cannot make someone want to clean up their life and reconcile with family, Sweetheart.  You are crying because A) she wouldn't do it or B) you failed to make her want to do it.  She looked at me and said, *I must be upset because I couldn't make her want to do it.  *I* failed.*  I hugged her and told her she hadn't failed.  It just means that the Golden Child has several more lives to live before she finally becomes a good person.  That made her laugh.

    Then we decided to listen to music on YouTube.  First was Adele, who is a favorite of Buttmunch.  Then it was Roger Whittaker, whom we both adore.  She finally (and vodka may have played a part in this) decided it was time for her to go to bed and off she went.  We don't often have these serious conversations but we had even discussed the need to make sure that Sheepie and BF were using an effective form of birth control.  There is nothing worse than an unexpected and unplanned baby to gum up the works.  Oh well.

    Love you all.  Have a fantastic Friday.