My brother didn't come home after all. He is still not making enough red blood cells, and the docs are watching some of the complications closely. One hopes this gives the SIL time to finish her cleaning. One hopes. She's not asked for more help. That's neither here nor there on her progress though.
She called me the other day while I was running errands and wanted to borrow money until payday so she could mail packages. Selling chunks of my brother's marble collection, no doubt. Well, it is an investment for times of need. So I said sure, I'd lend her money ... but the problem was it was after four in the afternoon and she needed it so she could mail the packages before five-thirty. WTF, woman? I wasn't at home, I was out with Desi trying to get the bug running so they'd have reliable transportation. I wasn't even in Ogden! No way I could get to the ATM and then to her in time.
So this is my complaint: I will help, I love to help, MyLarry really loves to help. Even my friends and burners love to help. But you have to ask us in time, give us a head's up, an opportunity to reaarrange plans. The SIL does this, and I suspect she has no clue: if we can't bend over backwards when she needs it she doesn't ask again. All in the timing. Just freakin' ask in advance, and by advance I mean other than last minute. Honestly! Poor planning on her part is not a crisis on our part. Grrrr. I know, there are times it can't be helped, but it shouldn't be Standard Operating Procedure.
Let's see. Got the teeth cleaned. Let Larry go to Rita's bakery unsupervised. Now I have a pack of local flour tortillas and a pack of 90 corn tortillas. 90. We ate the bolillos and pan de dulche already. Found a decent used car for the kids, to heck with financing, I trashed the money market and paid cash. Now they have their own car and I'm not so tense about the insurance and our vehicles. Now I have to make a car reservation in Malaga, pay the AmEx and the Citicard. And get the kids passports too. Screw retirement, I'm spending it all now. Might as well, the banks and the government are doing a fine job of screwing the pooch.
Point of clarification: I do not have kids. The kids are friends in their 20s. Larry has a kid who never calls. The ex raised him to hate his father, so there you are. Guess who's in the will and who is not?