It's Hard to Stay Sane When You're Surrounded by Crazy

The air's been cool and tingly in Frog Pond Holler the past few days, perfect weather for working in the yard. Aunt Moses showed up on Mother's Day to cut the grass with Uncle G in tow. She looks out for him since Aunt Martha died, as long as my cousin keeps up the payments.

I'm not exaggerating when I tell you the grass was butthole deep to a black bear. Aunt Moses had to give up on using the small, easy to push mower, leaving and coming back with a big industrial sized contraption. Even then she had to bungee the grass-spitter-outer- thingie open and mow 5 inch strips to keep it from clogging up.

While Aunt Moses mowed, Ma put on some pants (thank the Lord) and joined Uncle G out on the porch. Aunt Martha and Ma were very close, our families had houses directly across the street from each other back in Norfolk and Uncle G worked with That-Man-Ma-Was-Married-To-&-Whose-DNA-I-Share at the dairy plant.

Yes, my daddy really was the milkman.

Now Uncle G gets really confused when you ask him questions about family, he knows he had a wife that died, but can't recall her name most of the time. He thinks Ma is one of his sisters, wonders how I got so old and has no idea who The Amazon is.

Considering Ma's state of mind lately, I'm embarrassed to admit how entertained I was by the conversation she had with Uncle G out on the front porch that morning.

Speaking of Ma and her escapades, she cornered me in the kitchen the other morning to tell me that she didn't need me to take care of her, but that when my daddy dies and I get some money, not to embarrass her by forcing her to ask for some of it.

*blink*

First of all, I don't know nor care if she's heard that the sperm donor has contracted some fatal disease and second, I can bet you the change in the bottom of my purse that if and when the old pedo croaks, I won't be getting a dime.

Oh and? She informed me that she needs a vehicle, even though she knows she won't ever drive again.

Sure lady, let me go out in the yard and just whip a big ol' Cadillac out of my butt, kay? You say you know you can't drive it, but it'll do so much for your peace of mind.

Sheesh.

Last night T.A. informed me that Ma was having a new bed delivered today. She waited until then to tell us about it. There's no telling what I'll find when I go home for lunch. Thankfully, I've still got plenty of "Oh-holy-hell-I'm-losing-my-shit" pills. I made the comment to T.A. that her Nana should probably be getting her room cleaned up if they were bringing a bed. If you'll remember, I busted a hump getting it clean when she was in the hospital recently and it took her about a week to throw everything back in the floor.

"Oh," T.A. said, "she's having them assemble it in the living room. She doesn't want them going in her room."

Hello? What kind of mutha freakin' sense does that make?? And WHO do you reckon she's planning on having take it apart and moving it?

If you listen closely, you can hear me quietly banging my head against the wall.

Anywho...

At least it's Humpday. I think I'm going to go outside and get some fresh air. I'm about two seconds away from shoving Bossman's chrome dome in a filing cabinet drawer and seeing how many times I can slam it shut.

Not that I'm feeling a little pissy today or anything.

Ya'll have an excellent Humpday. We'll talk again soon, when I've calmed down a tad.

Later Taters!

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