treacle

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Imagine, if you will, the length of time it takes to make 2 pieces of toast and compare it to how long it takes for WW3 to break out in your mothers kitchen all because you dropped by and said the wrong thing.

Her: Your dad was saying to me I have to stop doing this (holding up MORE clothes for the sacred baby my brother and his wife had, thus placing me one further away from things I have in common with my family and one closer to reasons why Im different to them)

Me: Oh right

Her: He was being serious. He says Im overpowering Kate.

Me: Well you are.

Her: What do you mean?

Me: Well, when were all together and Millie needs something, you always rush in. When shes upset she needs her mum and dad, but you always rush in and take over. Kate and David are her primary carers and its them that she needs. Its their responsibility.

Her: Well Ill ask kate if she thinks so then.

Me: well she wont say anything.

Her: well Ill ask david.

Me: well he wont say anything either.

[The conversation didnt get much further as she sulked outside halfway through me trying to explain how she comes across. I finished my toast and I said Good bye.]

Her: Oh, hello and goodbye then.

Me: Mum. You were the one who walked off half way through me saying something because you couldnt handle the conversation. You dont know how to talk about things like this.

Her: WELL IF YOU AND YOUR FATHER DONT STOP TALKING TO ME THE WAY YOU DO I REALLY WIIL BE WALKING OFF. FOR GOOD!

Me: What? Where did this come from? Look whats happened now because you can't handle what anyone says to you! You think were all getting at you all the time when its simply because youre not emotionally developed enough to HANDLE what's being talked about!

[OK, maybe that was cruel but this ALWAYS happens.]

[Cue lots of storming about, the words "fuck" and "off" used liberally and shouting. By her.]

"WELL YOU CAN JUST FUCK OFF! THE LOT OF YA!"

And off she stormed. It was actually like talking to a teenager. One with emotional problems.

The Irish eh? Feisty little fuckers. You cant live with 'em, you cant burn 'em Well, not any more.

ps...
brokenhouse... I love you long time.