Our Family Tree May End Here Today, Though

My brother is attempting to fix our dripping tub.  Avoiding a repeat of the last time he attempted to plumb for us, I insisted that Dad supervise.  That, of course, erupted into a fight because the recalcitrant brother was all saying “I need silicone” and then Dad saying, “What kind?” and him saying “Ummm, whatever.”

Fight ensued.

And then, when my dad insisted that they look at what they were doing and make sure they see what all they need before they go to the store, another fight.

So, good times.

Then my nephew comes in here all “Why isn’t there any water?  I have to wash my hands.” and just stares like it’s somehow my problem that he’s been oblivously playing video games while a fight ensued eight feet from him.

And no one is following my orders to not bitch about the Butcher behind his back, to me.  Seriously, he’s in the other room.  If you want to complain about him, walk in there and complain to him.

Everyone’s all upset because my nephew is flunking whatever grade he’s in.  But no one seems to know why this is.  My brother is all “His mom doesn’t tell me shit and I’m not going down to the school to find out.” and I was just like “Okay, I’m done hearing about this.”  And they all stare at me like I’m crazy, but I’m like “Are you looking for advice?  No.  You’ve already decided you aren’t going to go yourself to find out what the problem is, so you know what you should do already.  Are you pissing and moaning so that you can get it out of your system so that you can work up the courage to do what needs to be done?  No, clearly not.  So, why am I going to sit here listening to you talk like this is somehow all her fault for not involving you in your kid’s life.  You had him in the car for five hours to get up here.  What did you talk about?  So, I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t like her, but Christ.”

And now I’m the bad guy.

I swear, every once in a while I will catch a glimpse of something–like this is exactly why I went into English and History.  I wanted to act out for a living the main dysfunction of my family–sitting around trying to make sense of things we have no intention of actually participating in.

Grrr.

All I can say is that the tub better not end up like the dishwasher, where it gets half done and then I have to nag the Butcher into figuring out how to finish it up.

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