Well, the dust is settling from the weekend flurry of activity.
They kicked Mom out of the hospital this weekend after a couple rounds of heavy-duty antibiotics. She's not acting like a space cadet anymore, so I take this as a good sign that the infection is subsiding. She follows up in two weeks, so we will see if there is any residual damage.
I harped on her pretty good about withholding vital information from me, otherwise I might have suspected something more sinister and sought treatment sooner. Mom hates doctors. She hates hospitals. She would rather die than go to either. I think she secretly knows that one of the fastest ways to push my buttons is to roll over and play dead (literally and figuratively).
Me: And you could have caused permanent kidney damage! You'd have to go on dialysis and I would have to visit you at the dialysis center three times a week. Then, I'd give you one of my kidneys!
Mom: Oh...my life isn't worth saving. Just let it go.
Me: Too bad. You'd be getting a kidney.
Mom: You don't even know that you'd be a match.
Me: You got three kids. Odds are likely that one of us would be. That's why you have children...for spare parts!! You'll get a new kidney whether you want it or not!!
Parental Moving Day was also this weekend. I now have neighbors. Cranky Ass Neighbor Lady on the other side of my house stood on her porch for a good ten minutes trying to figure out why me and my brother would be frequently going to the new neighbor's house. At one point, her husband even stopped to watch. Both of them scowling.
I think it will be good with Mom close by, especially in light of recent events. Plus, there is the added entertainment factor. Yesterday, I was looking out the window when Mom called.
Me: Spying on my new neighbors. I think the lady looks a little shifty.
With the festivities of Parental Moving Day coinciding with Mom Gets Released From Hospital Day, extra hands were called in to help with moving. One being a friend of Brother's. Another being Indy. And the last one being a coworker friend of Mr. Recommendation who apparently can't do anything unless he's high on grass. Every time you turn around, he's disappeared. Usually to his car to smoke an herbal refreshment. Having met this guy a couple times, I decided I didn't like him. Big time pothead, tells horrible jokes, and just a general all-round douche nozzle. When I decide I don't like someone, I usually throw the bitch switch around the third time I am forced to be around them. Some things just can't be contained. Why even try? You'll only give yourself an ulcer...
At one point, he opened a bottle of mom's Patron and started drinking directly from the bottle. I yelled at him for being a disgusting pig. For those who are not familiar with Patron, just know it's a very top shelf tequila, and a small bottle will set you back at least $40. If I had seen Pothead drinking directly from my bottle of Gray Goose, I would have taken the bottle, shoved it up his ass sideways, then made him pay for a new bottle.
At any rate, Pothead turned out to be completely worthless in the moving department, pretty much pissing off everyone else. Including Mr. Recommendation. Mom found out about the Patron Incident, and she was pretty hacked. She may be small, but she's a little ball of fury when she's pissed.
Part of the move included a bbq grill switcheroo. Mr. Recommendation has a $1000+ grill that makes men sport wood whenever they see it. Anyway, this grill had been in the safekeeping of friends of his, as their grill was a P.O.S. and fell apart. A $300 was at Mom's apartment and would be switched with my $160 grill after the move (because I'm awesome and clearly the favorite). My grill was to go to the couple that had the fancy grill, to replace the one that fell apart. It wasn't big and fancy, but it was only two years old, and not a spot of rust on it. I never even got around to using the burner.
Mr. Recommendation loads up my grill, and Indy rides over for the grill switch. The husband turns up his nose at my grill and says he doesn't want it. Never mind the fact the grill they actually owned was held together by rust. Mr. Recommendation shrugs and takes his fancy grill, and my grill, away. Pissed off by the sheer snobbery of some people, I gave my grill to Indy, who was more than happy to have it. I got the $300 grill, Mr. Recommendation got his fancy grill back. And Snobby Couple can kiss my ass. I have no use for people who think that having money (or think they have money) makes them better than anyone else.
I've decided that I don't like them either. Once you've hit "I don't think I like you very much" on my list, you may as well consider yourself permanent resident. I get that from my Dad.
At any rate, I'm very excited about the new grill, in ways that men typically get excited about such things. My first food I will cook on the new grill, will be hamburgers, a la XO. I've already purchased big buns and Old Bay seasoning.
Now, if Alzheimer's-afflicted Mother Nature would get her shit together, grilling season can begin. This spring-one-day, winter-the-next is for the birds.