First, a Funny. I don't know whether to laugh or scream, but it is another bit of anecdotal evidence supporting my long-held belief that these people live in a fantasy land of Leave it to Beaver reruns.
Cousin C called me on Saturday while I was painting, I didn't answer, and left me a very disturbing voicemail - she'd called my mother (she calls her at least once a week) and said that my mother sounded really weird, her voice was very clipped and gruff and she could not be distracted by any entertaining stories, and she went on and on about all of her "terrible problems" like needing to hire a guy to pressure wash her driveway. No, I'm not making that up, that was one of the terrible problems. She said my mother was the most negative and depressing person on earth. I told C I know, that's how it is, sometimes this just comes out and it's creepy as hell. I fully expected her to get crazier as her wrist surgery date approacheth. Dum-dum-dum-DUUUMMMM....
So I painted and painted and finally decided that perhaps it would be easier to call my mother and take the crazy temperature myself, rather than wonder if I needed to call her doctor or something. So I called. And I had the most delightful conversation with the happiest little ray of sunshine you've ever met, she went shopping and bought new nightgowns and that nice man who did the pressure washing did the nicest job, everything looks beeeyoootiful!
And I got off the phone and damn near howled, and sent C an email telling her that you just never know who'll answer the phone over there. C was simultaneously emailing me, she had been thinking the same thing I was "Has she finally gone completely 'round the bend?" and called my mother back right after I got off the phone with her, and talked to Little Miss Sunshine too. C said, "I started thinking I was the one who was crazy." I said, "Imagine growing up with that." She said, "Oh my GAWD. I don't know how you did it." Neither do I.