My mom's birthday was on friday. I, being the procrastinator that I always am, was going to wait until last minute to pick up a birthday card for her when I went off to classes.
And then New York was hit by a snowstorm, there's no way in hell that I'm going to go drive in my deathmobile and I don't get her a card.
I should say that I am a terrible daughter when it comes to these things. And I don't get cards. A guy working at Hallmark, writing meaningless things about how wonderful things are and it's some person you've never met...it just seems...weird. I don't understand it.
So, my mom didn't seem to be upset about the lack of card. I cooked a tasty breakfast for her and I had to go to work a bit before dinner time so I didn't get to go to the birthday dinner, but that was okay.
Next day, nothing's wrong. Then she calls her friend around a half hour before I have to get to work. Suddenly, five mintues before I have to be at work, she's mad at me for not getting her a b-day card and how I'm a terrible selfish daughter.*
(* I probably am both of those things, yet I don't understand how a card is supposed to fix all of this.)
After work, where I froze to death in drive-thru after the dining room was closed because (GROSS ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)someone puked all over and it had to be cleaned up (and no way in hell would that be me)...
I got her a card, still thinking it was a crappy way to apologize for being an ass, and wrote in it how much I was sorry for my actions. She read it and then told me she was so going to hold it over my head. And I knew she would.
Ahh...family. Backstabbing, psychological mindgames, and unstable emotions. What's not to love.
Now, I'm tired and I'm cold and there are wolves after me.
I may have made one of those up. You can pick which one it was.