Chaos sans Chocolate

Chaos sans Chocolate

The kid and her boyfriend arrived late last night, at which point G went into a complete and total tantrum.  And I told him what he could do with himself.  His response was to decamp to the bedroom – and stay there all night last night and all day today, not eating, nada.

Notice how broken-hearted I sound?  (NOT!)

I was already pretty effectively pissed off at him for other issues.  Even allowing he didn’t feel well, there’s acceptable and unacceptable behaviors, and he just crossed my last line of unacceptable.  *I* am the one paying the bills and dealing with all the associated crapola, for him and for my kid.  He does keep the house clean, but if there’s anything whatsoever that falls outside those parameters he won’t touch it, not even when it’s downright idiotic for him to wait for me to do it.  (Case in point – TV died yesterday.  It would’ve taken him two or three minutes, tops, to troubleshoot by calling the cable company.  Instead he emailed me, texted me and left me voice mails.  When I sent a response telling him to call the cable his response was “Oh well, you’ll be home in a little while.”  Yeah, I got pretty pissed at that.)

Furthermore, he got six ways bent out of shape when reminded that he put me through the hell in Tucson a few years back.   (He also didn’t like being reminded of  how other people – including Brain Gerbil – have bent over backward to take us in before, and I sure as hell wasn’t relegating my child to living on the streets after she repeated a mistake I had made myself about 20 years back.)

Heh.  No skin off my nose that he volunteers for sensory deprivation.  I’m not the one isolating his sorry ass.

Not only that, but this particular boyfriend is a go-getter.  He hit town Friday night late, it’s Saturday night and he’s already been hustling for a job.  Once he’s got work, this kid will absolutely be getting a place.  He’s got a little Eddie Haskell thing going on, but if it gets him a job and a place sooner it works fine for me.

The kids will both be fine.  It’s G who’d better watch his ass.

Otherwise it’s legitimately been a challenge to figure out space issues.  The kids are sleeping on the floor in the computer room and G went postal when I said they would move the computers.  He had it wrapped around his brain that they’d sleep in the living room.  With me up at 3am for work, that’s ludicrous.  This place is too open.  It might have been G’s idea of okay considering that’s what we were stuck with in Tucson, but it’s downright foolish here.  G snarled that they shouldn’t move anything, he would – and he was going to take down his websites because they were a waste of time

I told the kids to let it go.  G will get over himself or he’ll get out – his choice.  It’ll take him a while to get over his sulk.  And if he doesn’t, he knows the way back to Tucson.  I’ll even gladly pay his bus fare.  And if he legitimately doesn’t want his websites I’ll sell the domains.  Again – no skin off my back.

But I’ll miss Ye Puppy of Doggy this time.

G’s problem is that he was the baby of the family and very much spoiled as a child.  He’s not afraid of work, as such; but he gets his knickers in a knot if things don’t go exactly the way he wants them to go.  He’s also spoiled rotten because frankly I’ve spoiled him.  But at fifty-something it’s time he did some serious growing up.  I’m done raising the kids, even the ones I’m married to.  Difference is I think sooner or later G’s brain will engage.  I’m reminded of my older daughter.  When she was four-ish, she was a tantrum child.  I tried spanking, tried everything under the sun.  My final solution was that when her regular grocery store tantrum was unleashed (in a tiny town grocery store, thank God) I’d keep shopping, leaving her in the middle of the previous aisle.  She’d realize she was by herself, pick herself up and run to find me.  End of tantrum.

G’s a bit older and his tantrums are the silent vs. the noisy sort, but otherwise?  Same pattern, darlin’.  Once he realizes I am not stopping to play into his hands, it’ll generate a big ol’, “Oh SHIT,” and he’ll catch up with me.  And like I said – he knows the way to Tucson otherwise.  If he takes a hike, makes my life a heck of a lot simpler anyway.  Though I hope he’ll hang around long enough for the kids to move out.  I don’t want them as permanent roommates either!


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