Hopefully your Turkey Day weekend was better than mine, actually it wouldn’t be hard beat it. First of all, my felon, DUI sister is in town and as usual she acts the opposite of a 34-year-old adult. It started with Turkey Day dinner; she was supposed to drive over from Napa (visiting a friend) at 1:00 to assist with the meal. She rolled in at 4:00 leaving my folks needing to call me over to work my magic to save it. We pulled it off, but the felon had her whole bevy of tried-and-true excuses ready; my favorite was her alarm didn’t go off. Yep, so I guess she slept until 1? Napa is about 1.5 hours away, but let’s just call it 2, that is working on the assumption she left at 2, likely waking up at 1. She does not work, and her friend works at a winery, again my working assumption is she had a late-night partying, and well, turned in about 3:00 am. Again, this is a 34-year-old. She showed up, made a beeline for the wine, poured a large glass, and disappeared. She was literally given one job, as it was crunch time in the kitchen, watch the potatoes boiling on the stove, naturally she couldn’t even do that right as the fire alarm was activated by the water evaporating, I saved the potatoes the best I could.
The meal was commenced, and the neighbors liked what was served, if they only knew. However, the resident alcoholic threw down 2 bottles of wine over the course of the meal, yes, as in 7 glasses. No one else besides my mother drank. Again, this is a convicted felon, with a DUI on her record, and no one seemed to care.
The following day was when my folks get their tree, we always cut our own in Apple Hill. We were given orders to be ready at 8am being as I have a truck, I’m kind of mission critical so I got there at 7:30. My folks were stirring, but there were no signs of life coming from the other sibling of mine, I was not shocked. She finally rustled awake at 9:30, and we were on the road at 10:30. Of course she complained the whole way of being on an empty stomach; of course, this would have been remedied easily by waking up but that’s a tall order for her. Also, I found out the puppy of hers, some type of bulldog mix, needed to make the trip as well. The dog clawed my center console, climbed on me while driving, and barked and howled the entire time. I found out the dog hadn’t been fed and/or been allowed to relive itself. Obviously her caretaker fails at life and at having a pet. But thank god she felt she needed one. Predictably both members of the heavy drinker caucus had no interest in being on a tree lot for more than about 5 minutes. So, my father and I had to visit the lot we stopped at, as well as the one across the street to make a selection. No help was given as far as putting it in the truck, but the entirety of the trip back home was spent asking when we could stop for food. So, Bert’s Diner it was.
Bert’s has a sign saying no dogs on premises, and for all people “who have” that’s good enough, but if you are a “have not” you go inside anyway and argue with the frontline employee with no decision-making power at all. My sister literally told her you have an outdoor covered patio; we will just sit out there. Mind you we hadn’t ordered yet, and these very folks would be crafting our dishes. Upon taking over the patio area, she went inside and asked for a bowl of water…. yeah, you cannot make this up. In case you’re wondering, I am not related to Nancy Pelosi or any descendent of Gavin Newsom. Of course, she ordered 2 glasses of wine…because well why not. This basically sums up California Irony at its finest, the one with nothing made all the rules and wasn’t taking no for an answer. Upon conclusion, we made the short drive home. As we pulled into the garage, my mother declared she had to use the restroom thus meaning she wasn’t assisting with the tree, and my sister declared her shoulder hurt. Just in the issue of fairness she found a bottle of wine during her egress into the house and had a fresh glass poured as my father and I walked in after unloading the tree.
After this episode I went home, as I figured I too would be driven to drink, and I gave that stuff up. I took Saturday off too, I guess in California we would call this a mental health break? LOL
Sunday my phone rang right as my Sunday service let out, I had to come over and make my seafood pasta tonight, my sister requested it. I figured ok, since I didn’t spend Saturday there, and I know my dad needs help decorating the outside and the tree. I went over early, and we put up the outside lights, and got the tree into the stand, I needed a break again, and went back home. At 3:00 my phone began “blowing up” as the kids say these days, literally I heard it ring 5 times while I showered, I figured someone died, my sister was in need of bail again, or Trump got reinstated as President.
Wrong on all counts, mom needed me to relay to her the ingredients for my seafood pasta. I did, and literally 5 minutes later she called back asking the same question. I told her I would get the shrimp, and she had the other ingredients. I came over at 4, and quickly noticed my mother and sister were 9:00 drunk before 5pm, this was going to be wild. After handing my mother the shrimp, literally 5 minutes later I was asked where the shrimp was and why I didn’t bring it over. Yes, I had to walk a 68-year-old woman over the fridge and point to the bag of said shrimp, only to be told I didn’t buy enough. Yep, that kinda night. She told me help dad put the ornaments on the tree, and subsequently told us which ones to put where.
Making matters worse, my sister decided she was going to do invoicing for her “job;” kind of odd at 5pm on a Sunday, and with wine out. But such is life in this family, the black sheep can tell any tale and the gullible believe it. After about an hour of this I figured dinner prep needed to start, of course my mother decided to start the pot of boiling water, long before needed (we make fresh pasta) and I needed to shell the shrimp and cut the sausage. But when you’re hammered, all you care about is a minor contribution. I offered my dad the role of Sous Chef because I could tell he needed to get the hell out of there, as being the lone sober one is never fun. He joined me and we “processed” the shrimp and sausage, I had the pasta maker going, and all could be salvaged. My mom ventured in wondering where she left her wine glass, as is typical for her. Fortunately, they have a house stocked with them, and it’s never hard to find a bottle of wine. With the pasta extruding my dad said we should put another cup of water into the tree, so my mother walks over, grabs the bottle of water I have and puts it in the tree, yeah you read that right. No way she had a few too many.
I walk back into the kitchen and witness my mom popping half cooked chicken sausage into her mouth as if it was popcorn at the movie theatre. I ushered her out, and we got the meal in the pan. She wants to cook the pasta, so about every 5 minutes she called out the pasta goes into the boiling pot of water. She is now on wine glass numero 3 since the other 2 walked off on her (no comment on the actual amount of wine consumed). When it came time to add the pasta, she declared we didn’t have enough water, so she grabbed my now cup of water, and tossed that into the pot. Yep, I guess we are in a sharing household even as far as germs are concerned. When it came time to deglaze the pan of seafood and veggies, she insisted on dumping in the remaining half bottle of white wine…. I can envision Gordon Ramsey’s head literally exploding, but this is what a drunk does. Prior to putting the pasta into a bowl, my mother decided it needed more herbs, so she dumped in an entire bottle of McCormick perfect pinch Basil, and another of Italian Seasoning.
After saying grace, she and the felon needed to “re-top” their wine glasses, and the meal commenced. My sister decided it wasn’t flavorful enough, so she added red pepper flakes to the bowl, and hot sauce. This is perfectly rational behavior, right? During the meal my mother picked at her dish asking repeatedly where the shrimp were, and whispered to my sister “where is the dog?” The felon kept adding hot sauce to her meal and needed my help locating the bottle of wine on the table…literally directly in front of her. What an enjoyable Thanksgiving weekend I had.
The following day I called both out for their behavior, and my mother claimed not to have a drinking problem, and my sister pulled her usual BS and started crying, saying her ex-bf hit her, and has threatened her recently. Not trying to be a jerk, but I don’t buy it.
I’ll end with this, these are classic behaviors out of both my felon sister and my mom. Neither ever take the blame or responsibility, because it cannot be their fault. This is classic behavior of addicts, with my mother, it’s too late, this is who she has become in the last 10 years. She has zero patience when drinking, and literally, like her mother, thinks I am dumb. I have always been asked numerous times “if I understand” or “did you remember?” They will never understand but that cuts pretty deep. I always find while cooking over there the burners get turned to “hi” when I’m not looking simply because one of the two addicts is hungry. Not being able to locate your wine glass is textbook you’ve had too much, but nope, just grab another and let someone else figure it out later. As for my sister, she has always displayed entitled behavior and never been told “no” before in her life, so she never takes it as a final answer, always looking to go over someone’s head. She never learned from her felony drug arrest, or DUI causing an accident arrest, so she will never learn. The fact she still acts the same way is disturbing…. almost as disturbing as my parents turning their heads the other way. The excessive drinking and staying up until the wee hours of the morning tell me she’s up to even worse after the adults go to bed. Not getting up until 10am backs up my hypothesis. She cares about no one but herself, as far as the ex-bf goes, I think she is either a) a liar, or b) they both engaged in excessive partying, and it always got out of hand. Heads or tails, it’s not a good look. Frankly her refusal to consider a restraining order tells me all I need to know.