Anyway, I called my SIL and told her what her 10yo said, and her first instinct was to WAY downplay it.  When I went through word by word what her daughter had told me, and that in essence she’d scared her daughter by telling her to get in the car with a drunk driver, the story changed to “well, that’s not what I meant.”

So apparently what my SIL meant was that my BIL was perfectly fine to be driving, but he’d been drinking at dinner and if the cop even smelled alcohol near the accident he’d be able to put him in jail for drunk driving.  Because the laws are so strict, you know.  And the legal limit is so low it’s ridiculous, because he’s totally fine to be driving after a few beers.

So see?  It wasn’t at all telling her daughter to get in the car with a drunk driver.  She just wanted her daughter to get in the car with a guy who may have smelled like alcohol and probably would have failed a breathalyzer test.

ARGH!

I wish I’d thought to ask her if it would have been okay if the 10yo got in the 17yo’s car after the 17yo had a beer, but I didn’t come up with it in time.  After hearing her thinking, I couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d reached through the phone and hit me in the face with a frying pan.  I must have blinked about a million times, stammered something out, then she told me she’d have my BIL talk to their daughter about it.  We made small talk for a while after that, and I haven’t heard anything since.

1. My family + my wife’s parents
2. My wife’s brother’s family
3. My SIL and her husband.
4. My SIL’s 17yo and 10yo daughters

On the way home, the 17yo got distracted by the radio and knocked the side mirror off on a parked car.  So cars #4 (the kids) and #3 (the parents) stopped to leave a note, and the 10yo was understandably not keen on driving the rest of the way with the 17yo.  So she went home in the car her dad was driving, car #3.

The next day I was talking to the 10yo about the accident, and she said the accident was scary, but that she was really scared when her mom was yelling at her to hurry up and get in her dad’s car.  I asked why she was scared, and she told me, “She was yelling at me to hurry up because there was a cop behind us and my dad had been drinking at dinner, and even though he hadn’t caused the accident he was still driving and if the cop came over he could put my dad in jail so we had to leave right then.”

My SIL yelled at her daughter to get in the car with a drunk driver.

You have no idea how fucking mad I am about this.  That my BIL would drive drunk.  That my BIL would drive drunk with his kid in the car.  THAT MY SIL WOULD TELL MY NEICE TO GET IN THE CAR BEFORE HER DAD WENT TO JAIL FOR DRUNK DRIVING!  HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU DUMB CUNT?  Jesus H, you’re supposed to yell at her for getting IN a car with a drunk driver, not for not getting in fast enough!

We left about 2 hours after my niece told me, but before we did I told her that it doesn’t matter that her parents do it, she should NEVER drive drunk, and she shouldn’t get in the car with someone who’s been drinking again.  I could tell by the way she nodded that she knew they were idiots, but it’s not much consolation.

I haven’t called my SIL about it yet.  I just don’t know what to say, and it’s harder because the 10yo is visiting some other family in another part of the state until later this week so they can’t sit and talk about it.

Meanwhile, I’ll sit here fuming.

He wants out.

Some days it’s all I can do to ignore him, and some days (like the past 3) I haven’t been able to.

Stupid.

I can’t stand how much power food has over me.  I can’t stand how easy it is to slip back into my old ways.  I can’t stand how, when someone compliments me, I think to myself (and sometimes say) “yeah, but you haven’t seen my roll of loose skin” or “that’s because I’m wearing clothes to hide my fat.”

I wish there were an easy answer.

Anyway, it’s my daughter’s teacher’s last day and apparently she told this mom that she wasn’t going to be getting her final paycheck.  Which, I agree, is an outrage.  IF it’s true (note, the teacher has gotten her paycheck now, a couple of hours later).  But, as I know, communication between the administration and teachers can be, well, let’s just say bad and leave it there.  So I don’t know what was actually said, but this mom was in a frenzy about it.

Where was this kind of outrage when I had to write The Letter That Got A Teacher Fired?  Why did I have to stand alone for that?

So after she got done ranting about that, it moved on to the Lesser Gripes.  The ones I’ve heard before.  The ones that make me long for the end of summer when our children will move on to different schools and I won’t have to deal with her gripe sessions.  Spending money on graduation caps/gowns?  Wasteful!  Buying more teaching materials when they already have some?  Dumb!  Not listening to parents like her?  An outrage!

Yawn.

Then we got into how the principal didn’t care about the children, only about the money.

Oh no she di’int just go there!

Over the years while we’ve been there, I can say that if the principal cared about money she’d be a better businesswoman.  The school practically leaks money because she’s always hiring more teachers, buying more materials, getting the place new stuff, etc.  To the point where it’s irritating how much money she’s spending.  But it’s not on herself, it’s on the school.

And while we had our problems with the teacher a while back, the school took care of it.  And I deeply believe that when it comes down to it, you can’t fake caring about the children for 3.5 years.  You can have a crappy business model, but you can’t fake your passion with the kids.

So this phone call got me all riled up.  Just like I knew it would when I answered it.  Thank God I had a run to do right afterward, because I would have gone nuts with all that anger floating around in me.  It still pisses me off, but at least I burned some of it off.

It turns out he can be a little shit sometimes.

I know, that’s no surprise.  My daughter has had her moments too (still does, as a matter of fact), but my son is picking bad habits up at school much more than E ever did, and it’s really trying my patience.  Or maybe they’re just boy things, I don’t know.

Last night was his turn to pick what was for dinner – he picked pizza, so great, we knew he’d eat it.  After a kiwi, one TINY sliver of pizza (about 1/4 of a slice), and one molecule of broccoli, he got himself a gogurt.  After a couple of squeezes, he squirted it on his plate and began fingerpainting, so he lost it (his plate).  When he realized what I was doing, he lost it (his mind).

His freakout was impressive, and he ended up throwing his bowl across the table at me.  He’s been pushing his dishes around lately when he gets mad (the teacher said he does it at school, too), so I confiscated it and told him his dinner was over.  He spent the next 5 minutes throwing a major tantrum in his room, calmed down enough for me to go get him so he could keep us company at the table, and as soon as he came out he screamed, “Dad, you’re poopy!”

Back to the room, another 10 minutes of full-on tantrum, and dinner was over.  He could come out again.

What’s odd is that he didn’t care once dinner was over.  He didn’t seem hungry (and I know he didn’t eat lunch), so I have no idea what’s going on in his head.  I swear, sometimes that kid drives me bonkers!  To paraphrase Louis C.K., “I love my kid very much, but he’s a fucking asshole.”

Damn Louis CK is funny.

The good thing about this is that in the last couple of months I have more patience than I ever have before.  Throughout all of his episodes like this, I find it MUCH easier to deal with than E ever was.  I don’t know what it is about her that makes me lose my temper so easily…I’d have guessed the boy would make me crazier.

Of course, I have 15 more years until he’s out.

*takes off pants and runs around wildly*

Whew, now that I’m done with that, what should I talk about?  Hmm…it turns out that a fresh blog isn’t the only thing one needs to be clever.

Damn.

Well, at least hopefully here I’ll feel a bit freer to talk about what I want without offending family and people I might actually worry about offending. Don’t worry, that’s not YOU. But just in case you need a good running-off…(cover your eyes for the next line, Emily)

Shit. Piss. Fuck. Cunt. Cocksucker. Motherfucker. Tits.

How “tits” made it on the list I’ll never know, but dang George Carlin was funny.  Anyway, it’s not like I have any big secrets to reveal or anything like that.  I just hate having to censor myself about some things so I’ll try to be more relaxed and honest over here.

If you’re wondering who I used to be, forget it.  I’m not spelling it out here.  Let’s just say I’m a shredhead and leave it at that.  :)