|Me after The Bitch left my house.|
Image from www.freedigitalphotos.net
She's hated me from the start. I think the first thing I did wrong was sleeping in that weekend - the first one I'd had off in months when I was working 16 hour days at two jobs. It went downhill from there. The Bitch is a yeller. She yells about everything. In my family, yelling only happened if there was serious trouble. She yelled if a coat didn't get hung up.
Since then, The Bitch has become much more passive-aggressive. "Well, if you want to do it that way, fine." And she has all kinds ways of getting under my skin. She criticizes my housekeeping, my parenting abilities, my lack of willingness to serve 7 vegetables with Christmas dinner. If I do it, it's wrong. She doesn't say it directly. But here's an example: My son had finished with his dinner and was annoyed at being made to stay at the table watching everyone else eat (something I personally don't understand). She says, "You sit right there until we excuse you. Grandma has rules."
See what The Bitch did there? The subtext came through loud and clear. "Mommy and Daddy don't have any rules."
Now that I'm writing a lot more, I'm trying to think of ways to include her in a book. Especially if it means I can kill her off. Does that make me a bad person? Probably better to figure it out on paper than to actually act on it I think. The only problem is, she's so ridiculous, it seems like a bad cliche.
But aside from providing writing fodder, there is one other good thing about The Bitch. She lives 400 miles away and doesn't drive. :)