When I sat down to write this post, I looked at the empty page and snarled.
"I shouldn't write today," I said to Wonderhubby. "I'm really pissy and won't say anything nice."
"Who said you have to be nice?" he asked.
But I feel like there is a nasty theme running through my posts these days.
Because really? Everyone is still ticking me off. Is it a side effect of being -- ahem -- a menopausal mid-century woman? Or is it that raising teens and 20somethings has finally sent me over the edge?
I have gone there before in this space. And the only thing that has changed since that post is that Z-man was rehired by the restaurant that had laid him off several months ago. So at least he's working. Although since he works evenings, he still sleeps till mid-afternoon. Sluggard.
But it was a blunt conversation with J-bear that has flipped me on my axis.
I felt it was time to address the problem of the elephant in the room. If you have read me for very long, you know that two of my three sons are gay. So homosexuality is not a big deal in my house. You are gay or you are straight, but you are still my kid. The end.
The fact that J-bear has made this SCREAMING statement with her appearance without the common decency to speak the words offended me. In our house? With me?? Are you KIDDING me?? It's the safest place to come out EVER.
But no. Finally I had had enough.
And so ... in an emotional, hourlong conversation that touched on many things (including whether her current look was acceptable for "polite society"), I asked her flat out.
Her answer was in the affirmative.
I then moved on to her appearance and an upcoming all-skate family weekend celebrating my parents' 60th anniversary at a very high-end resort and spa, where the mohawk, tattoos and industrial-sized piercings will. not. fly.
I thought that, by the time I was finished, I had made my point clear and that she needed to decide if she was willing to conform in order to attend and be part of the family.
As of Sunday morning, she had decided she wanted to go. When I spoke to her that afternoon -- and reminded her what that meant -- she gave me the big heavy sigh.
"If you think it's just appearances and why should that matter," I snapped at her, "then please remember that it works in reverse: For those four days in June, it shouldn't matter to you that your appearance conforms to social norms."
She actually snorted.
"But I like it."
I think I'll go scream in my pillow now.