The thing I HATE! worse than anything else is that little sliver of thought in my head that feels sorry for my mother. No matter what she thinks she is, and no matter what she is capable of doing, she is still a little old lonely lady living by herself. I watch the National Geographic channel and saw a lioness that got bit by a cobra and almost died. I was feeling so bad for this girl and cheered for her when she came around and fought off hyena's and eventually rejoined the pride. Her cub had died. She was emaciated. But she finally was sturdy enough to finish her life on her own.
If I was face to face with the cat, she would make quick work of me, and floss her teeth with my dwindling hair supply.
I won't ever be able to occupy the same room with the Barbarian ever again. All those letters I tell you I sent.
No bull shit.
The Barbarian doesn't take kindly to being told off. Especially in such a no nonsense manner. I even pasted a picture of two dogs humping with a caption that said......someone get a broom and a bucket of ice water.....Barbara's in heat again.
I sent it to her.
She all but threatened me with an untimely death while we were on "good" terms and with me living down there but having an argument with her.
I had walked out the front door to work on my truck in the drive way to get around having to face her while she watched television in the den. She stuck her head out from the den and said something about did I know that someone was trying to break in the front door? She knew it was me taking the long way around to avoid her. I took this as a throw down threat from her letting me know she might actually manufacture a scene and cap my ass. She does have a gun by her bed.
And even if we came to some reconciliation I know THAT would be manufactured to cover her 24/7 seething rage.
Rage is the only "emotion" she feels. Every thing else is a front.
So why bother?
My son was having a flash back from the pot.
So I was forced to fire a warning shot between his eye bones.