Sometimes in the fury of life, my head hurts from banging it against the wall. Between my mother insisting on a quote to paint her home “so it has better curb appeal for when she is dead and we sell her home” to Bailey’s constant non-answering of his phone, it is enough to make me want to runaway. Unfortunately, the places that I would run do are inundated with the crud and honestly, I am confused as to why people are vacationing there. Aren’t we still in a pandemic? I digress, as usual.
Let’s chat about Bailey. I know that most of you assume because he has Down syndrome, he is as sweet as Pumpkin pie. That is fake news. He is human and happens to be my son, after all, so his level of eye-rolling is advanced. He can be an asshole. And when you try to enlighten him, he gets annoyed. Case in point, answering his phone.
We created a lovely haven in our lower level for him. So, instead of walking downstairs every time I need him, I text or call him. This results in me having to go downstairs anyway because he doesn’t respond. The other day, I called him and – cue my exaggerated surprised reaction – he did not answer. Instead of calling me back, he came upstairs. “What do you want?” That was his question. My question was “Why can’t you simply answer your phone?” He looks at me and says, “I always do”. Yes, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Ugh. I am insane.
“No, Bailey you don’t always answer the phone.” To which he responded with an eye-roll and a “Whatever”. Welcome to my world, friends. On the occasion, he does answer or respond to a text, it is dripping in annoyance. Trust me, I am annoyed too. We have been together far too long.
My rant must have done a some good, as he is responding to me better. Experience dictates that it won’t last for long, but I will enjoy the moment. I think we just need some time apart. Bless. Our. Hearts. I am contemplating giving my mother a new roommate. She and Bailey can drive each other batty and I get a breather. Too bad that won’t happen.
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