However.
I know that I've vented on this subject before, but sometimes, I want to strangle his little brother. Just for being so damn unappreciative!
It was his birthday this week. His family--who doesn't have a ton of money at the best of times--asked where he wanted to go. He chose Olive Garden. Now, for just the three of them, that's not TOO expensive. But, his family is generous--extremely so. So, they wanted to pay for ours and his aunt's also. Quite a venture.
During this meal, let's call him...M...and I were chatting. He was turning sixteen, and was terribly excited about it. We talked about his girlfriend, and his car, and a million other things. I really enjoyed the time, the conversation, and him. So, I said, "Hey, why don't you come over and stay a night with us this week? I'm off Tues, Wed, Thurs, and we could play games, watch movies--Stephen will cook. We can make a night of it. Want to?"
He said yes emphatically. As the week progressed, we finalized plans to pick him up from school, and also invited my cousin(the one with the baby?). Her baby is sick, but she still said yes, and she's spending the night too.
Last night, we verified the pick up from school plans, and went grocery shopping. We planned for them, what they'd eat, what they liked, what they hated, all of it. Lots of thought and fair bit of money went into tonight's dinner and tomorrow's breakfast. We also spent a considerable amount of time in the game isle, choosing a new game we thought everyone would enjoy. (We went with Cranium, btw. Super excited about THAT.)
This morning, I rolled out of bed at eight(a feat for a nightshift girl), and started cleaning the house and tending the animals. I juggled my dad, who showed up, the dogs, the cat, and the broom. I felt a little like a circus performer: dishes in one hand, head stuck out the door, trying to convince the puppy to pee in a monsoon, dad talking one ear up, the other listening for the washer. One eye to the clock, the other to the floors, trying to decide just how badly they needed mopping. The phone has rung off the hook, to boot, trying to get school applications in, cancelling doctor's appointments, rescheduling, getting the vet records on Kiesar and cancelling his cropping appointment. Plus, work kept calling, trying to get me to work. Feeling a tad frazzled.
And, then, the phone rang again. It was Stephen's mom, asking for him. I asked what was up--she didn't really give me a straight answer, so I gave her Stephen's work number. A few minutes later, he called me.
Instead of picking him up at 3, like planned, they're dropping him off sometime between 7-8. This puts dinner on hold. T will already be here, because we have to go get her at 6. All the games are even teams or four players. It won't do to start a movie, because he'll show up in the middle. And, it's just so frustrating! I feel like I went out of my way--on my day off! My first in a while--I just finished five straight 12's--and it got thrown up in my face. Yeah, he's still coming, but we planned this days ago! He knew what time we expected him! And, despite the fact my house is in the middle of a deep clean, I just want to throw my hands up and quit.
Truth be told, I almost called work back and said, "You know what? Screw it. It's big bonus, right? Right. I'll be there at seven. A four hour? No--hell, just give me the whole twelve."
UGH! The irony? The whole way home from M's b-day dinner, Stephen and I discussed him. How much we loved him to death, but how irritating it was for him to be so unappreciative of the things done for and provided for and sacrified for him. I just want to knock some sense into that sixteen year old brain of his!
P.S. My Dane is terrified of thunder storms, it just started one, and I'm out of puppy Prozac. Add THAT to my earlier mentioned circus act.
