Hello readers,
So all in all, having dinner at Rebecca's was a terrible event. Her monicotti was a delicious and it was nice to see Danny, even if he only came out of his room for a few minutes to eat and run but then things went downhill...fast.
Rebecca and I were having a nice conversation until dessert when she started accusing me of going senile! To this I took much offense and we burst into an argument about whether or not I am capable of living alone. She say's she's been reading my blog and that she's worried about me. She needs to worry about herself if you ask me. She said that I "seem to be confusing what type of pet I have and what shows I'm watching"... "Losing my grip on reality," she said. I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT! I am absolutely certain that Trina is a cat and I miss her very much!
She suggested I go live in a nursing home! First, I am perfectly capable of living alone. Second, she has no right to tell me what to do! And as far as who's worried about whom, I am concerned with her lack of parenting skills. Just LOOK at the door to Danny's bedroom:
That looks like the door of a disturbed child. A neglected child. A misled child. And the smell, OH GOD the SMELL. It smelt like low-tide and manure was emanating from that boy's room, it was almost unbearable being in that wing of the house...
I left abruptly after the argument and haven't talked to Rebecca since.
Rebecca, if you're reading this: You ought to figure out what to do with your immediate family before you try to stick me in a nursing home!
No comments:
Post a Comment