how do you define a mixed feeling?
for me, it would be when my parents leave after a two week visit.
I love them, they're generous to me and the kids but they drive me fucking nuts at the same time.
two days into their visit, we're having dinner on the deck. we don't have a patio table out there, so my dad sets his beer on this little water table we got for the kids. Rosalyn comes over and starts trying to knock his beer over. he gets into a yelling match of "no! no! no!!" etc with her... and it's just like dude, I know shit was different when you raised me but three things: 1) it's easier to just move the damn beer (put it up on the deck rail) than to keep arguing with a 15 month old, 2) you need to learn to pick your battles, 3) it's her fucking table!
anyway... don't get me wrong, he helped out with a lot of shit and showed me stuff that I was too stubborn or disinterested to learn when I was a kid - putting a new toilet in our bathroom, replacing some outdoor electrical outlets, redirecting our downspout and he helped me open the pool. probably some other small shit I'm forgetting about as well... oh yeah, he also bought us a dehumidifier for our damp basement. and I'm grateful for all these things.
but when it came to him dealing with my kids, I was reminded why I didn't get along with him too well growing up.
oh well. they're gone and the knots in my stomach are slowly untying themselves. and I'm a little sad that we probably won't see them again for at least six months. and that my friends is how I define a mixed feeling.
for me, it would be when my parents leave after a two week visit.
I love them, they're generous to me and the kids but they drive me fucking nuts at the same time.
two days into their visit, we're having dinner on the deck. we don't have a patio table out there, so my dad sets his beer on this little water table we got for the kids. Rosalyn comes over and starts trying to knock his beer over. he gets into a yelling match of "no! no! no!!" etc with her... and it's just like dude, I know shit was different when you raised me but three things: 1) it's easier to just move the damn beer (put it up on the deck rail) than to keep arguing with a 15 month old, 2) you need to learn to pick your battles, 3) it's her fucking table!
anyway... don't get me wrong, he helped out with a lot of shit and showed me stuff that I was too stubborn or disinterested to learn when I was a kid - putting a new toilet in our bathroom, replacing some outdoor electrical outlets, redirecting our downspout and he helped me open the pool. probably some other small shit I'm forgetting about as well... oh yeah, he also bought us a dehumidifier for our damp basement. and I'm grateful for all these things.
but when it came to him dealing with my kids, I was reminded why I didn't get along with him too well growing up.
oh well. they're gone and the knots in my stomach are slowly untying themselves. and I'm a little sad that we probably won't see them again for at least six months. and that my friends is how I define a mixed feeling.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
And yes, I do like pain... but it really all depends on what kind of pain it is, some is good and some is bad - the searing pain of a needle digging into the tender flesh on the back of your knee is most definitely *not* good
Smoke what? I'm smoking a clove right now, is that what you wanted?
Oh yeah? I bet you have
Aw come on now, talk dirty to me baby, you know I like it... but okay fine, I'll say it....