I’ll thank whatever elder god that cares that my provider is sane in this matter. I’ll get a reminder text a week before my appointment and then one more the evening prior. I only have to respond if I need to cancel or reschedule.
In all seriousness I think he said eight is the max he can handle at one time. He has frequently complained that it’s hard to keep his schedule straight what with all the international travelling and dating. Whaa whaa whaa.
Today I went to the grocery store. Damn, theres a Lot of cereal. I looked down, and there it was. Pumpkin Spice Cheerios. No.
By far the worst part of Pumpkin Spice Cheerios (besides the doubtless ghastly taste) is the fact this signals the beginning of the Fall & Halloween marketing season. In early May, 5-12 months before it’s relevant.
Soon we’ll be buying shit for Christmas 2027 some time in the summer of 2025.
I fantasize someone will give the store a signal to stop doing this by yelling, Pumpkin spice!! Then ripping the box apart and throwing the cheerios around. This made me laugh as I typed it but someone must take a stand. Maybe The Committee will step up.
Someone needs to call the Pumpkin Spice Police.
There’s a Trump joke here.
Guy watches way too many James Bond movies.
No, these are Trump handcuffs.
Well, Mother’s Day Brunch kinda went worse than expected. Wee Weasel was completely freaked out. He kept hiding behind chairs, and people kept coming up to him demanding social interaction very loudly. His response was to scream “No!” at them. We were seated with my husband’s Collossal Dick Uncle who immediately turned to everyone at the table I was sitting at and remarked, more than once, about how poorly he’d been socialized. Since we haven’t shared his diagnosis with everyone yet there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could say. But I seriously wanted to launch myself across the table and beat the shit out of him. He is a guy in bad need of an ass-kicking in general. I could tell my son was overwhelmed but Spouse Weasel kept telling me he had it under control sitting on the floor drawing numbers for my son.
My FIL’s girlfriend seemed nice but she kept asking us if she, a virtual stranger, could hug our son. Like, I’m sorry, now is not the time, he’s very overwhelmed right now, how is that not bleeding obvious to everyone?
Eventually we got my son situated in a hallway with low traffic and he enjoyed playing with the calculator. But his behavior was even more repetitive than usual, usually he just adds various numbers together or puts in different operations. Today he just kept pushing the same button over and over and over.
Then, apparently I found out later, Colossal Dick Uncle chastised my husband for not greeting my FIL’s girlfriend appropriately. I guess because he didn’t drop everything and hug her in the middle of all this? My husband didn’t even get to eat. Colossal Dick Uncle legitimately seems to think he is in charge of everyone, it’s very clear to everyone he’s been pretty poorly socialized himself.
As soon as we got him in the car, Wee Weasel had a full blown autistic meltdown. He’s never had a meltdown before. He was inconsolable for about 30 minutes. I felt terrible. Terrible for putting him through this. I knew it was too much for him.
I am not doing Mother’s Day Brunch again, EVER. And we are holding off on visiting restaurants with our son in the foreseeable future. Yes it was a failure but you never know unless you try. He is much better with family at the big houses where he has places he can run away to.
And we still have The Talk with FIL planned today. I don’t think he’ll be the least bit surprised after what happened at Brunch. We are delegating him to talk to his horrible brothers about this and tell them we don’t want to hear a single fucking word about it. Not a single. Fucking. Word.
Ouch! The only bright spot in this is now anyone in the extended family who was in denial won’t be any more. You know, the folks who were saying “Oh, no, he’s not autistic, you’re just a bad Mom who’s mistaken and he’s just spoiled.”
That BS won’t fly any more.
Good on you for deciding it’s good riddance to the lot of them. Or at least to the difficult among them.
Darn! I was out of town, so I’m just catching up on this thread… too late to yell “Don’t go to brunch!”
I mean, you’re a mom. Stay home and get pampered by your husband instead. Maybe you can have your own Mother’s Day on a random day that works out for YOUR family (not that other extended one).
Our church has Life Groups, a bunch of people who meet at someones home, eat, go over some biblical story. No meeting tonight, its Mothers Day, we’ll be with our families. I have no family, no relatives, and my sons in heaven, so I get to just look at my walls and deal with the face that no one cares.
At least I’m getting Prime Rib now.
And my husband will never ever pressure me to go to brunch again, lol. I declare myself free of that bullshit for the rest of my natural life.
Discussion with FIL went pretty well. He didn’t say anything stupid, asked some good clarifying questions, and agreed to inform the family so we don’t have to deal with the ignorance. He wants us to get together with him and his girlfriend this week and I’ve heard through the grapevine they are exclusive now. I hope that means he calms down a little.
Hell yeah! Savor it. That’s the good stuff.
Happy Mother’s Day to you @Spice_Weasel!
Of course somebody cares. I’ve known my sister all my life. I hesitated to call her on Mother’s Day since her only child was killed by a drunk driver. Even knowing her for 48 years, I don’t know what to say at times like these. I suspect rather strongly people care and want to reach out but don’t know what to do or say.
Im not exactly sure who I’m (more) ticked off about, so this is perfect for this thread.
I decided to go to DQ for a treat, didn’t wear my mask because I figured I was going to eat in, and end up waiting during an unusually busy period with a bunch of unmasked people who didn’t look like they believed in Covid. One woman was coughing, but she was old enough that it could have been anything. It hadn’t sunk in how long I’d wait (ten minutes or a bit more), so I didn’t go get my mask out of my car, since I didn’t want to miss my order, which has historically taken seconds. I ended up hightailing it out the second I got my sundae.
Sometimes I think I can feel the Covid in my lungs. I’m trying to tell myself I’m not necessarily infected, but I’m not sure I believe myself. I feel stupid and careless.
Oh! One other thing: an older man who randomly walks up to you in a park while you’re eating and offers you pot probably isn’t interested in just being friendly, right? That happened today too. I felt rude not even looking up; I probably shouldn’t.
Oh, okay. We’ve swapped out for “The Stroke.” That’s cool, brain, super awesome. Thanks bunches.
“Stroke mah, STROKE ME!
Stroke!
Stroke!” 
(Kill mah, KILL ME!)
A nearly perfect aftermath to a nearly perfect storm.
As the saying goes
It’s an ill wind indeed that blows no good.
Excluding work at the airport, I haven’t seen a single mask out in public here in FL in maybe 2 months.
Not a rant, just an observation.