I knew coming home for the holidays would be hard. What I didn’t anticipate would be the hilarity that I’d also get out of it.
A lot of things my mom does piss me off. But this year, with the help of alcohol and a non-chalant attitude, I’m finding them just downright hilarious. I haven’t gotten into a fight with her yet (though she did get in one with me….I just refused to participate, something about how my eating out offends her, from 3,000 km’s away), but I have witnessed some hi-larious shit.
Observe the following, which normally would have me seriously contemplating the sanity of both my mother and myself, for coming home to her house, but instead just provided me with laughter. That kind of silent laughter where your whole body shakes, and is funnier than it really is, cuz you have to be quiet, so you start crying cuz you’re laughing so hard? Yeah, that kind.
So, I’m sitting in the living room, doing SFA (sweet fuck all), when I hear my mom call the dog into the kitchen. I hear my mom ask the dog to lie down. I hear my mom go into the junk drawer, then plug something in. Then, I hear some loud buzzing noise. This is followed by my mom screaming at the dog, saying ‘No! Stay STILL!’, then scrambling of little dog feet on the linoleum and the loud smashing of my mom jumping around the kitchen trying to catch said dog. Then more buzzing.
It is then that I realize what she’s doing. The dog needed her nails clipped. But my mom, believing she is the reincarnation of Bob Vila (despite the fact he isn’t dead yet) has decided to…….use a fucking DREMMEL POWER TOOL to GRIND down the dogs nails, instead of clipping them. She claimed the dog preffered it.
I. SHIT. YOU. NOT.
I was dying. DY-ING. Because the greatest part was that you could hear my mother throwing herself around the kitchen on her knees, in vain attempts to grab whatever part of the dog was the last to run out of the kitchen, looking for refuge.
I sat there the whole time thinking, ‘Where the hell am I? This is SO going on my blog. Oh my GOD, what is that woman doing? Seriously? A dremmel fucking power tool?’
On a side note, I almost flipped today when I realized that there was no coffee shop in walking distance from my parents house. I wanted a coffee. There was no Starbucks, no Second Cup, no Tim Horton’s, nothing! I can’t MAKE coffee, what, do I live in fucking 1943? No! I buy my coffee like any spoiled city bitch. It was a terrible realization. I had no choice but to go to sleep. Which is what I’ve done the whole time I’ve been here. The first night, I slept for 13 hours. OH, sweetness. I love you sleep.
I find it easier to sleep here. Maybe it’s the lack of sirens going past my building every 48 seconds. Maybe it’s the clean air. But I think it’s being in my parents house, which brings up comfy ‘someone will do it for me’ feelings (along with awful repressed childhood memories which we won’t go into). The couch seems comfier, the bed is softer, the food is yummier, the messes less of an issue, cuz it’s my parents house. I dont know, it’s very weird for me to be home, cuz I hate it so much, but it’s still comforting, cuz it’s what I know, you know?
Whoah, getting a little deep there. Sheesh. That side of Talea is very rarely allowed on the blog.
Anyways, if you don’t know what a Dremmel Power Tool is, google it. I’d do it and paste the pic up, but this is the S L O W E S T computer since the days of vaccuum tubes, I swear. I think it might blow up if I search for graphics. Nobody needs that. And I’ll tell you all what I told the boyfriend about the Dremmel story….tell everyone you know, this shit is too good to keep quiet!