Tuesday, April 24, 2012

A Good Day in Hell


My parents always shot  fire works on the fourth of July.

Growing up in my house were boring days of watching my parents watch each other like two coke addled drug dealers trying to cheat each other at poker.  Until one thought they had something on the other and all hell broke loose. My father would keep track of the mileage on the odometer of her car to see how far she got away from the house during the day. She called in favors from friends to lie for her, and I was expected to do the same. I don't ever remember having to lie for her. But I was coached each and every day on what to say if I was asked. And I would have done it. The alternative would be for WWIII to break out and after they fought, fucked and made up, my ass would have been in a sling with her for not lying. And with my father because she would have told my father I was lying even if I was telling the truth, and I would have ended up having both of them on my ass.
We always had a good time.

  I know this because I heard them pull this shit on my sister. My mother blamed all her murderous extracurricular activity on my sister because she met the guy who would become her partner in crime when my sister had him over to the house. Another thing I saw with my own two eyes. The instant that guy walked in the door, my mother was dry gulching his leg like a half grown pup. My father displaced his anger and her responsibility on to my sister, and that was the last time she was welcome around those two. I am not sure how she explained how my sister was responsible for her fucking the guy blind and them killing his boss, but she pulled it off.

We still talk about it at family reunions

 If the old man would swallow that load of shit, what hope would I have just saying I wasn't with her all day and I don't know where she had been.
I wish I had bailed out when the bailing was good. Long before it got to critical mass. I remember thinking of running away. Just to send up a flare to remind them that there is a kid living in the house with them. It would have blown up in my face. Some how some way. There was no winning with those two.


Anonymous said...

This is a real classic in so many, many ways: The whole "Damned if ya do, Damned if ya don't" double-bind mess in which they demonstrated unfailing ability to CYA while leaving ours "exposed" for a good beating if we didn't fall in with the outrageous (and patently transparent if anyone cared to look) lies.
I'm sure you were told, "Don't you EVER lie to me!" while they lied/cheated/"expropriated" with disgusting frequency. We were good little "Props" and excellent keepers of "secrets."
You become this way when your very life depends on it.
(Great pixs, BTW!)

Lisa said...

Yeah, my mom made me lie a lot too in the house. It was so suffocating, to the point where whenever the phone rang, I would sit there wondering wtf I was supposed to say when I picked it up. It was weird because she didn't even have things to lie about, but she would just make shit up. Like if she went to Korea, it was suddenly a big deal that we shouldn't tell people she was in Korea so it's like wtf am I supposed to say to her friends and family when they call. Or it'd be about shopping and shit she bought, I couldn't tell my dad when he came home and poked his nose into shit and asked a bunch of boring questions. Then it'd be like he made this stupid expression like "My own daughter is lying to her own father," or get all drama queen angry and then a big lecture about how he's so great and daddy shouldn't be lied to. Then she finally had something to lie about which was gambling and going to the casinos and man the whole thing was so stupid. She's such a bitch.

q1605 said...

Yeah..I mean they are such dyed in the wool liars that I guess that think you think as little about lying as they do.
I never had to really lie. My mother was always on top of things and the worst I had to do was give him my patented dumb look to confirm whatever bullshit she was shoveling his way.
If I could have charged for dumb looks I would be a millionaire.
But the handful of times he came home when she wasn't there were pretty awkward.
Where's you mom?
nu-n-n-n-n nu I mmmmm
What boy? Cat got your tongue?
After that she would drop me off at grocery stores for hours.
That was fun. Grocery store?
There weren't a lot of malls in those days.
Having the employees looking at you because you had been at the magazine rack for hours.
Thanks mom you fucking cunt.

Anonymous said...

So funny, it never dawned on them that I didn't want to be around them, LOL. Who would?


q1605 said...

Yeah Sis, it's a matter of perspective.
If I had been a little older I would have fled the scene like my ass was on fire.

vicariousrising said...

This kind of stuff became so common in our house that I started telling my siblings that whenever something my parents promised didn't come to fruition (which was often), it would be my fault somehow. And, of course, it played out that way.

The biggest problem was when I was younger, I wondered why I kept sabotaging things and telling lies when the reality was that I was doing neither, but being told that my actions were deliberately sabotaging and that everything I said was an untruth. It pisses me off that I was that brainwashed.

I'm sure they are still doing the same thing for every pipe that bursts and every lightbulb that burns out -- it's just that I don't have to hear them blame me. If only I had such great powers of destruction...

q1605 said...

To listen to them you would think god had turned all of them into ants and us into eight year old kids with a magnifying glass.
When things were going well it was all about them.
Let shit hit the fan and they get that ..whud jew dew? look.