How could I be so silly?
There are several parts to this story.
I will try to keep it short.
Let's get the drama out of the way to explain the EXTREME awkwardness that was said weekend.
My Grandma and my Pap got divorced like 3,000 years ago. She holds a bit of a grudge. He's passed away, but that doesn't stop her from not letting go of that. My Aunt was there. The women on one side of my family can only be explained by an analogy. When you interact, at first you are like, they aren't so bad! Liz totally exaggerates. Then, you start watching and taking in the sites and discussions. The passed glances of superiority. Then, it turns on you and you feel the cold stare of judgement mixed with hell raising fire and Carrie style pig blood coming at you. If there is a hell I would choose it over pissing off those women. Which I did. Over a few posts I made on this blog, that they read out of context, and tried to start shit with my Mom and me. Tried to make me feel guilty for an ONLINE DIARY. This was a big family weekend for the shower, so all but one of those women showed up. I felt like I was trying not to piss off a box of bees on their period.
I will come back to the discussion I had with my mom before I left NC.
Now, I get to my sister's house where I am staying for this short trip to Ohio. (thank goodness) I unpack a bit and get myself unwound and whatnot. We then pack up and head to my Mom and Dad's house for "Dinner." My Mom is a BALLER cook. It's where I learned my awesome ways. We get there, and she says to me, my sister, and her husband, "Well since you guys are late, you can eat in the kitchen." My Mom, Dad, 2 Grandmothers, a Step Grandfather, and an Aunt all ate at the dining room table while the three of us ate in exile. The meal was frozen crab cakes, baked potato, and canned corn. My big weekend at home, celebrating the newest addition to our family, and I am exiled to the loser table in kitchen town, and didn't even get a home cooked meal. Oh well, it saved me from having to make awkward small talk with the bees.
Next night rolls around. We go to dinner. At a place that I like. No one else did apparently.
The shower itself was awesome. My sister did an insanely good job. Everything at the shower was PERFECT. My Mom was the "Director of Events." It was entertaining to see her in this role.
I think spoke 5 words to the bees. The bees did give me generous gifts. I assume, it was to try to say we are sorry we are bees. In all honesty, I know they can't change who they are at this point. It is what it is. I love my Mom but she can be a lot to take at times. I have the right to talk about it. This offends their demure sensibilities.
They are purple, and I am pine cones.
It's as simple as that.
So back to the conversation I had with my Mom before I left. I wanted this to be the parting of the post.
So, it's getting to be leaving time from here in NC. To the best of my ability I will try to recant the conversation. This is NOT an exaggeration. This is the real deal.
Mom: When you get into Cleveland, where are you going to meet your father?
Me: I figured I would meet him at baggage claim.
Mom: Ohhhh. Ummmmmm. I think he should try to meet you at the gate.
Me: I doubt he will be able to get to the gate. It's best I just meet him at baggage.
Mom: No. I really don't like that, but I guess it's going to have to do. Now Liz, when you get off the plane...don't talk to anyone. Don't let anyone try to convince you to follow them to meet your Dad or anyone else.
Me: Well, I planned on going with the first person to offer me candy.
So there you have it. My mom sees me as a pregnant 6 year-old. Sweet. If you have balloon, puppies, and a rapist van I am all yours. A sizable trunk and some of those Dove chocolates would probably work too. Oooohhhhh or donuts. I will totally follow you out of an airport for donuts.
My Mom needs to lay off the Dateline.