nature vs nurture

In today's society, my parenting skills are considered rather...old fashioned. It's very direct with the clear understanding that I'm not one of your friends, nor should you ever look at me as a peer. There is a food chain and I'm on the top of it.

My kids are grown now, thank God. One out on his own and the other one, well, I'll put it this way...I can see the light at the end of the tunnel...

I often kid my own parents by telling them I got the worst traits from both of them.

They don't help by agreeing.

That said, I want to give you a small glimpse of my Mom. I say this because when I wasn't looking, I turned into her.

There are two stories in particular I want to tell about her over the course of time. Then, you'll understand better why I am the way I am.

I'll go with this one today...

We live several states away from each other and don't talk on a regular basis, but when we do call each other - we're looking at anywhere from 4 hours to 12+ hours. Literally.

So I get this call out of the blue one night last summer and she's all excited and flying high with happiness.

I generally know this is somehow bad for someone. I'm just glad it's not me, so I'm more than happy to bask in her story-telling.

The people that live across the street from my Mom never got rid of their son. He's in his mid to late twenties and still living there.

The neighbors pretty much just put up with: the music, the cars, the noise and the chaos.

My Mom doesn't say a word.

She figures, they're on their property, it's really not bothering her too much... Whatever.

though she did go on for a good 10 minutes about how my brother would have been kicked out on his ass ...sink or swim!

Then this idiot makes the mistake of making a game out of backing out of his driveway loudly - and while he's at it, gunning it and taking out my Mom's mailbox in the process.

Can you see how this is going to be bad?

She didn't know who did it the first time, but she suspected. The second time she lost a mailbox, she saw him do it.

Now, she's PISSED. She's waiting for him to say something to her about it.
Nothing...

this is where her voice elevates and she talks about the pluses of beating your children...

My Mom, my daughter and I are alike in that, if something bothers us and then STILL bothers us the next day - something HAS to be done about it or else our heads will explode. At least that's what it feels like and none of us want to test that theory because no one wants to clean up brain matter.

Needless to say, the next day - my Mother is still pissed. No. Not only is she pissed, she's even MORE pissed then the day before because he had the nerve to wave hi to her and still not say a thing about mowing down her mailbox.

this is where the "death tones" come into play...where she drops her voice to a near whisper and speaks very, very slowly...the plot thickens and you know the violator has just met his match, even if he doesn't yet...

I can hear a, "SON OF A BITCH!" lurking in her voice.
Of course, then she said exactly that out loud.
Our biggest fear is being misunderstood.

There are only two areas I'm creative in. One of them is revenge. I get that from my Mother. My daughter gets it from me. The rule is to never use it against each other.

My Mother decides, after thinking about it far too long, to make my step-father purchase a third mailbox and post - after digging a big ass hole in the ground to fill with cement.

I did make some off-hand comment about it being illegal. She was not moved by this knowledge in the least. She immediately ignored my side comment and carried on with her story.

We are, by nature, not a peppy or perky lot.

I did, however, for the first time in my life - get the word giddy defined for me.

She starts picking up momentum in her story telling!

It seems that a couple of days later, my Mom heard the guy's truck. She ran up to her bedroom to watch the festivities out her window.

She witnessed the idiot hauling ass out of his driveway, aim for her mailbox (which is diagonal from him, definitely done on purpose) and smash the shit out of the back of his truck hitting her mailbox.

Two thousand dollars worth of damage!
That's how much it costs him to fix his truck.

crescendo reached!

GIDDY
She was beside herself with happiness!
And she feels it's her joy to share - which is why she was calling.

He stopped hitting her mailbox.

she has since removed the mailbox altogether and gets her mail at the post office now...she doesn't care, she made her point...

So, as you can see...
I didn't have a prayer...