Mimi the Meanie

I wanted to share a very recent exchange between my son, my husband and myself. My oldest, Ben; 6 1/2 is laying in bed one night, I'm in there putting clothes away, chatting him up before bed. For no particular reason I say to him, "Benny, when you grow up, get married and have babies, I want your kids to call me Mimi, ok"? He isn't too fazed by this request, so he agrees. My husband, Jason overhears this conversation....much like Cindy Brady, he's always evesdropping. Anyway, he hears us and wanders into the bedroom, "What....what's that, you want to be called, Meanie when you're a grandma, ok--no problem, Meanie". No, no, I said MIMI, I want to be called MIMI. 'Alright Meanie if you say so', he tells me.

Ben is cracking up at the idea of his kids hating me. As if hating me himself wasn't enough, he had to pass down the hatred gene, like a treasured jewel. This goes on and on for what seems to be an unusually long amount of time. It's as if they'd rehearsed this whole dialogue and scenario. Jason continues talking in baby talk, "what's that, little baby? Meanie won't let you sit on the couch or touch anything? What now? Meanie won't let you play games or have any fun? Well, we'll just see about that...Papa will make everything alright. Yes, that's right, little baby, you love your papa, not that old, stinkin' Meanie, right"? I'm listening to my son hyperventilate with laughter at my husband's predictions. See what I have to deal with? Like I need this aggrevation. Just say the word boys, and I'll bounce. Peace out.

So, in short, I thought you'd get a kick out of the abuse and torture that I endure each and everyday. I'll admit, the whole conversation was pretty amusing. But, what was different about today's abuse, was that they were plotting to turn my grandchildren against me....who aren't even born yet. It's one thing that they make my life a living hell now, but to scheme against me as an old woman???? That's an entirely different ball of wax. They're just killing me slowly, that's what they're doing. What's next? Cutting my break lines? Ha ha, that would be funny, seeing mommy skitting all over Northland drive. Hee hee.

~Sleeping with one eye open.