I left my house twice today - once to go to the eye doctor (who gave me the brilliant diagnosis that I am far-sighted which would explain the ten pairs of reading glasses that lie around my house) and to pick up my aspiring actor son, Gunnar, from school where he auditioned for the school musical. I called Aidan on the way home from the Dr. to see if he wanted a slurpee at 7-11. He said "yes." Then he told lme that Granny had come over and proceeded to whine to him about how upset she was that we didn't call her Sunday and that she was so bored and lonely that she cried. My son is not a licensed psychologist, which makes we wonder why she thinks this is an appropriate thing to say to a 14 year old. He is not responsible for her boredom. And if she was so bored and lonely, then she wouldn't have then left soon thereafter. (Although that was better for Aidan).
As I was waiting outside the school for Gunnar, Aidan sends me the following text:
"Granny tried to lock out Brody (from the house) and when I didn't let her, she told Brody I was a fuddy duddy in the kitchen where she thought I couldn't hear her." So now she's back to insulting Aidan (previous readers will remember the time she called him a "bastard."
I know one can't expect a pit bull to change it's colors. But my naive self thought that a grandmother pit bull just might. She has definitely aimed her arrows at Aidan, so far. My thinking is that she knows inherently that he is the one who is the most sensitive to this kind fo thing. Of course, this is not a conscious thought. It's just disturbing that my mother is now extending her damage on to the next generation. At least I can help him understand that she's whacked.