Quandry-what to do now?

Roomie's mum is staying on the sofa and since it is only just after 0600 I certainly can't get out there to get some of my week's end chores done; she put my towels in with Roomie's-who keeps his room locked at night, as do I, since we don't know to whom Fiancee has given keys to during a fit of anger at Roomie-so I can't get a much needed shower; she (Mum) also put all of my groceries in with Roomie's so I can't get to my much needed breakfast. Additionally, she is using the washer/dryer and so I can't even get in there to do a load for myself. Christ!

Yesterday at the outlet mall, everything I looked at to buy for myself-for example wonderfully priced king sized quilt-she grabbed for Roomie. I had the thing in my hand, she grabbed it out and exclaimed "Oh that's perfect for him!" I said, "Oh, I was thinking of it for myself..." which she ignored, and threw the thing into her cart. Really, it was the only one.

At the grocery she grabbed my bread, paid for it, and then put it in the kitchen-there go my lunches, since it is looking more and more as though I will again today be entertaining her instead of getting what I need done.

And reflection has made me realize what caused my nausea last night-I am using the wrong OTC, which no doubt has Doctor Dad in fits. So I need to make a Wal-Mart run even more, which I can't do because Roomie's mum is staying on the sofa-right by the only door to the flight of stairs leading to my car-and if I wake her, I will have to entertain her.

'Od's bodkin!!!!

Thank Heaven I keep a stash of kwick foods in my room-but are peanuts really an appropriate breakfast? Damn it all, my fresh case of bottled water is sitting on the living room floor!

Not to sound as though I don't like Roomie's mum, I do. And more in her favour, she is one sharp cookie-when I put the water on the trolley she mentioned Fiancee's nasty habit of assuming the world owes her a feeding, and everything on everyone's plate or in every/anyone's pantry is there for her first and foremost.

As Mum added name brand soda to the trolley, she mentioned her surety that Fiancee and entourage would not doubt clean the sodas out within the day of discovery.

When Mum learned that I'd bought the groceries last week, and cooked a Thanksgiving meal for myself, she wondered aloud how long it took Fiancee and entourage to arrive after table setting. (Answer-Fiancee arrived just after the turkey was ready to be carved, the side dishes were cooked, and the cranberry sauce opened. She 'assumed' she was invited, was offended when I didn't wait for her and Roomie to get their plates-had the nerve to mention it; and naturally didn't say so much as thank-you or "The turkey is so juicy!" A single member of the entourage arrived as the rum cake was about to be served-but to his credit, he often appears with his own food, so it was demmed hard to fault him at least!)

Roomie's mum was even less impressed after she found out I'd been the one to purchase and put on the sideboard several nice red apples, to which Fiancee unhestitatingly helped herself to in Mum's presence without so much as a "May I?"

She hadn't liked the way Fiancee helped herself when she thought her son had bought the groceries. Because of her good breeding and innate good manners, she was more disturbed to hear Fiancee had committed a double faux paux by abusing the hospitality of both Roomie and me.

You see, gentle reader, to Southeners, when one's son has his own establishment and later finds he needs a roommate, although the 'new' roommate is often paying the lion's share, the establishment is, to the Southener, still the Southener's son's; ergo he is extending his hospitality to the new roomie. Ergo, when the 'new' roommate puts a treat on the sideboard, the treat becomes a doubled bit of hospitality-Southener's son's AND then only by extension, 'new' roommate's.

Gotta love real Southerners. They have a fineness rivalled only by their British ancestors. They do us proud, really they do.

And she shared, in the unique way Southeners have, her disquiet at the stinginess of Fiancee, who'd brought a whopping four cookies with her as a welcoming treat for Roomie's Mum and then proceeded to enjoy two of the four.

As I said, Southeners-what's not to love except the racism thing? As our younger cousins, they too have the knack of saying what wants saying without the embarrassing frankness that so often comes back to haunt...

Hold up, my tongue is too deeply embedded in my cheek:) Not to mention the muck has very nearly got up past the hip waders...