The Male Sibling Unit is riding a wave of happiness today. This is not a difficult achievement for me to accomplish as long as I stick to tried-and-true formulas:
* Buying him something
* Doing something for him
* Preparing foods he likes
* Indulging in his penchant for foul language
* Discussing his current interest
Today, I ticked five of those things off the list; all six, if you include the fact that I bought him something the other day in order to prepare him a food he likes.
Therefore, I bought him Suddenly Salad mix, even though I have never made it for myself.
Our mother loved it, and he loved it when she made it. I decided, why not? I tweaked it a bit, adding more bacon because, well, BACON, and more seasonings, and Parmesan cheese. It’s not bad at all. I am pairing it with pork chops, which would not normally thrill him, because, well, CHEWING MEAT, but I am Shake and Baking them, so he’s tickled. Don’t ask me why Shake and Bake changes the game, but it does, although I’m never going to Shake and Bake a steak for him no matter how much he whines, because that would be an insult to even a bad cut of steak. Not happening, fucker.
I was successful in contacting his case worker today and setting up an appointment for The Big Talk to occur next Tuesday, after work. I explained everything to her, because she’s new and doesn’t know all of the many facets and nuances that make up The Male Sibling Unit, resulting in the absolute delight that she will be experiencing. I think that she was overwhelmed, because there’s a LOT to explain, and simply meeting him at work and spending five minutes talking to him doesn’t even begin to expose her to the reality. She gets the polite, quiet man who simply agrees with her because he’s uncomfortable talking to those whom he judges to be authoritative. He’d agree to smear frosting all over his bald pate and pronounce himself a cake as long as she’ll LEAVE HIM ALONE. So, he’s very pleased about this meeting, because “Thank God I’ll be retired soon”.
I complimented him on his work numbers today when he reported them to me, via text, like he always does. I also managed to tick off the foul language delightfulness in that one text, pleasing him to no end.
Thursdays seem to be the only day they have a substantial amount of work, so he was relatively busy and his mouth was less-apt to get him into trouble. On those slow, bad days, I receive texts all day about “that bitch” and “that asshole” and a running commentary, listing the reasons why everyone is either a bitch or an asshole, along with the numerous outrages perpetrated against his person. Sometimes, all they need to do is look at him in a certain way that he deems offensive. Gawd help them if they choose to speak to him on such days, and infuriate him with crimes against his humanity, like
“That candy isn’t good for you”
“You have food in your mustache”
“I don’t like it when you tell me to go to hell”.
They are FUCKED if they smile at him “funny” on such days. His wrath, via text again, is swift and devastating to my eyes. “That bitch told me what to do and I don’t like her” and “I’m pissed and I’m telling” will be delivered to my inbox and then I must act.
Depending upon my mood, I will either use patient, encouraging rejoinders to walk away, let it roll off his back, smile and thank them, or just simply ignore the offender. On days when my patience is short, due to a never-ending litany of texts describing the awful conditions he is forced to endure, I will simply swear or send him the ambiguous “Dookie” text. That’s all I reply:
This is code for “I am not engaging in this nonsense so if you don’t want me to Gibbs-slap you, STFU” and guess what? It works. It’s a sibling thing, a big sister thing, and it has been serving me, and my blood pressure, well for a long time now.
Finally, we have been sending each other Ghost references, because he has finally listened to the new album in its entirety a dozen times over the last few days and he’s freshly obsessed. We have relived his first Ritual, reminiscing about his utter joy at hearing them play live and his stupified realization that Cardinal Copia is a living, breathing person and not just a face he sees on a screen.
I can relate to that; don’t we all experience that moment of pure bliss when we see a band onstage for the first time and we’re confronted with their reality? I certainly felt that way at my first Ritual and was even more gobsmacked afterward, when I Met The Man and found myself snuggled against his delicious-smelling leather jacket for a few moments of deliriousness that I can only describe as life-changing. Then we talked and he focused those striking, green eyes on me and suddenly, I was the only woman on that street; then he bestowed upon me numerous, genuine smiles and if I believed in God, it would have convinced me that this was an angel standing before me. The Male Sibling Unit does not quite grasp that there is a man underneath the Copia mask, so I don’t know if he would feel as shot-through-with-moonbeams-and-fairydust as I did were he to meet him. It sure would be interesting, though. He has, at different times, declared that he loves him, so his reaction would be a true gamble upon our part – for both us and Tobias.
Four days before I met him, looking at another fan the way he did me. In that yummy jacket.
Anyway, today was a home run in terms of me, doing the Sibling thing. I don’t often get two of those days in a row so whatever fresh hell awaits me tomorrow: I am ready for you, motherfucker.
The husband is bringing home refills of my meds, just to be safe, and there is wine.