The red gloves

This is one of those personal posts about shit or people that irritate me. So, you've been warned. The other day, Lissa went over to Tuwella's for about 10 minutes and came back in with new gloves. I said, well, those are pretty, who gave you those? Instead of answering the question, she started going off about how she didn't like them and they don't match her dream coat (which we have not found yet) and I sighed. She's one of those kids, you have to have patience with. I think her attention span is the same as a gnats sometimes. I said, well, I hope you were polite to whoever gave them to you, now, who gave them to you? We went around again about how she wasn't wearing them, they were ugly, etc. I said, they are Scandanavian print and pretty and if you don't like them, who cares? They're gloves, you'll lose one in a day anyhow. I told her if they bothered her so much, I'd take them and she could go choose a pair of mine in trade. She was happy with that and went off to go through my hat and glove drawer. I called her back and asked again, who gave you those gloves?

Finally, she answered. "Oh, you know, that guy who visits Tuwella." What guy? She knows lots of 'guys'. The lawn guy, the meals on wheels guy, the multitude of relatives, neighbors..you get my point. Which 'guy' is buying you gloves and why? Lissa starts talking about this 'guy'. He's, you know, like, I dunno, he visits Tuwella! God damn, kid, get to the point. Okay, what's this guys name? She doesn't remember. She starts describing him and telling me she's met him before over there, he visits Tuwella. Yeah, I got that. Just when I get out of my chair to go ask Tuwella, she remembers a name. When she tells me, I get this sour feeling. Old grapes, I guess. I shake it off. That is not 'some guy', I tell the kid. THAT is your Grandfather. She gave me a blank look and then said, no, my Grandpa lives in Villisca. I said, your good Grandpa lives in Villisca, that's your mom's dad. This one is Eric's father. Your dad's dad. He lives in a Scandanavian township, which explains the print on the gloves.

I could write a whole book on here about why this dude irritates me so damn much, but, I don't want to waste my typing fingers on him. I was 17, he was 20. Birth control wasn't easy to come by. I ended up knocked up and was informed by my mother, as many girls were back then, that carrying, birthing and raising a baby was my punishment for my 'sin'. There were no choices back then for girls like me. Maybe that's why I am so pro choice now. Well, hell yes it is. But, back to the present. This guy spent my son's entire childhood ignoring him. Once he found out I was pregnant, I never saw him again, except when his car would pass by and he'd look straight ahead like he didn't know me. Fucking fine. Every once in a blue moon he would have one of his idiot girl friends call me and ask for a visitation date with my kid. I always said yes. I won't go into reasons now. But, every single time, I would get the kid dressed, comb his hair and he'd be waiting..for his daddy..and this asshole would never show up. It was heartbreaking to watch. Every time. Eric never even met him until he was grown up. Daddy dear gave him some sob story about how he 'tried to find us' for years. Ya fuckin' doofus, we lived about 50 miles from you, where I was when I met you, and I was in the phone book. Such a liar. Eric knew he was full of shit. He was polite to the guy, but, never formed any kind of a bond with him. But, here's the weird part..my mother did.

I have no idea where my mother keeps her brain. I really don't. But, somehow in her head, this guy is the bees knees. Anything he did or didn't do can be explained or excused by her. I still, to this day, cannot figure out how I was the sinner who had to pay (according to her) and he just breezes around whenever he wants. I cannot figure out the bond he and my mother have developed either. He really likes her. He goes to auctions now and he buys her boxes of junk and she loves that. He visits her on the regular..he has for years now. She has this wall of photos, it has me and my brother's baby photos and the cousins. One day I went over there and she had taken my baby photo down (limited wall space) and guess who's baby photo had replaced mine? Yep. His. What the fuck? Okay, it's so bizarre and so typical of my mother to do something like that, that I laughed my ass off. His baby photo is still center stage in her living room. Mine is probably in one of the junk drawers. That's fine. I was a little Albino, I wouldn't have won any prizes. The rest of the family is dark (Cherokee) and my photo never quite fit in anyhow. But, his doesn't either. He's light complected. I am off subject. Sorry. But, my point is..this guy and my mother irritate me. I ignore the whole thing. It is her right to be friends with anyone she wants. I have that right too, though I still have to explain that to her once a month, at least.

So, Lissa has lived here, at least, part time all her life. With Eric and now me. I am 20 feet away from Tuwella's back door. So, if good old Grandpa wanted to know his Granddaughter, wouldn't you think he'd have made that big walk by now? Nope. I didn't even think he knew her name. Suddenly he's buying her gifts. The gloves and yesterday a new pink fancy hairbrush. If this isn't odd enough, he also asked, via my mother, for a school photo. I shrugged and said, sure. I gave Tuwella a 5x7 to give him. Nope, that's not good enough. He wants an 8x10. I only ordered an 8x10 for her mother. Because, one, they're expensive and two, they usually suck. Well, this years didn't suck, it came out beautiful and looks like a glam photo. But, I'm not one to hang family photos around. So, I kept my 5x7 and handed out the rest. Gave Lis her wallet exchanges and threw the envelope away. Now this dude is bugging me, through my mother, every fucking day, for a big photo, which he says he'll be happy to pay for. No amount of explaining to them that I have no idea where to order it will do. I finally told her that if he's not happy to get the same size photo that I have, then he can call the damn school and ask them who took it. I am not doing that.

So, there ya go. That's my bitch this week. He is irritating me. My mother is irritating me with him. He is not that important that she has to run over here delivering his stupid messages that he doesn't have the balls to bring to me himself. And why is he so suddenly interested in this kid?? I don't trust him or my mother and I never will. Maybe he has finally grown up enough to want to know his own flesh and blood, maybe it's that simple. But, I am not assuming that and I never will. Don't expect any 'Gramps takes the kid to the circus' days, is what I'm saying. You guys know what I'm saying. The last time I actually talked to him was at the funeral home, at Eric's visitation. He said, 'I'm sorry' and I said, 'Thank you'. He didn't even come to the funeral. Bitch.

As for my sins and punishments? Yeah, well, I may have had to shoulder all the responsibility and I still resent my mother for that. But, I never resented my kid. I don't have to tell any of you moms how tough it was sometimes, but, I also got to know a really cool dude. HE never did. He missed out on that and I don't care what his reasons were anymore. I just don't care. He can watch his son on You Tube and that's as close as he will ever get to knowing what an amazing person Eric was.