Sometimes I think it would be so much better if my family actually WERE

Well it's been a crack filled couple of weeks that's for damn sure. I've decided that my family are crackhead nutters. I almost think I should shove a crack pipe in their face and make their madness legit.

My ma and I, well it's day 30 in My Ma is Not Speaking to Me Even Though There isn't a Legitimate Reason. She did call me on Day 21 but after doing the usual filling me on herself and her various shenanigans, things quickly disintegrated and it became apparent that unless I groveled and let everything slide, the battle lines would stay enforced. There was some heavy artillery brought out and I'm sad that we still can't see eye to eye, but I just can't be involved in the games or the crackness. It's funny sometimes...but actually, on the whole, it's all just rather draining. I love my family, but my own family has to come first, particularly the bambino.

Do you know how all of this started? Because I didn't want to get drawn into the constant arguments between herself and Dial M for Bro - the 22 year old Monosyllabic, Moody, and Mean. I also didn't appreciate the flippant comments about him possibly ending up living with us one day as I have no desire to raise a 22, almost 23 year old. I made my feelings perfectly clear - he is always welcome to stay over but he can't move in. It wouldn't be fair on us or the bambino. Of course they had another argument and he ended up at our place and I felt very backed into a corner as if being challenged to see if I meant what I said. Cue this whole pallava...

Anyway...since then, Dial M for Bro phoned me up one day looking for fifty quid in his brisk Dublin tones where you'd almost believe he was brought up in inner city Dublin, instead of going to a posh school and living in surburbia... I agreed for the sake of peace and quiet. This was at 5pm. I'm in my bed minding my own business, when my phone rings at 11.15. I answered it worriedly because people don't phone late unless there is something wrong. Right?

"Er..NML, remember that money I said I needed. Well, can I come round and get it now?"

"Have you lost your effing mind? I am in my bed!" I howled at him.

"Well you didn't have to answer your phone" he said petulantly.

"You didn't have to bleepin' call me did you?"

Of course I declined. I'm not a gangsta hanging around on street corners late at night. That and he would never have managed to get a train to mine and back...

Like a numpty, I spent half of the following day trying to reach him. Why the frick am I chasing somebody about borrowing money from me? I felt like Samuel L Jackson's mother in Jungle Fever!

I heard nothing and after a week, I heard the door knock and I answered it to find him on my doorstep. I was on the phone to a client so I let him in without a word. I got off the phone.

"To what do I owe this great pleasure?" I quipped.

"Er...do ya remember that money I said I needed. Well, I need it!"

I couldn't believe the fecking cheek of him and I let him have it with both barrels. I sometimes think that my crackerjacl family take me for a mug.

"Jeesus! Stop busting my balls!" he whined.

"You have no idea what busting is!" and I gave him one of those shrivel your nuts looks.

"I was thinking...you know, you all need to chill out man...You know...relax...let things go...You're all too uptight!" he said with a grin.

"Are you stoned?" He claimed that he wasn't and that he'd just woken up.

Does he think I just fell out of a tree?

So yeah, it's been a busy two weeks but I shall be back...I have been beavering away (that's working not my va-jay-jay) and there are a few big things going on that I will talk about soon..... Must go, the boyf's snoring with the rubbish vampire movie in the background is reminding me it's sleepy time!

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