I love my family, but I find they are so much easier to deal with once they've died.
Take my mother, for example: She's 75, and she's had tongue cancer twice. Yes, that's right: Tongue cancer. But does that shut her up? No! She talks more than ever! And now she mumbles everything! Like it wasn't bad enough before, now I've got to lean in and hear her complain about my life. Yet when I see her lying in that hospital bed, I feel so helpless. Sure I could push her out the window, but there are too many witnesses!
Then there's my brother, the alcoholic sawmill operator. The US started taxing Canadian softwood lumber, putting hundreds out of work, so his mill had to downsize. He's the one saw operator they DIDN'T fire. Yup, lucky Two-Toes, still on the job.
Or my sister, the colour-blind epileptic diabetic nurse. Every time I find myself in an ambulance, all I can think to shout out is, "NOT ST. BONIFACE HOSPITAL!! ANYWHERE BUT ST. BONIFACE HOSPITAL!!"
I love 'em all, but heaven forbid I ever have to be near them while they're doing what they do.
Rel said:
I think the advice given so far is categorically excellent.
Thank you! I find that fire works more often than one would expect. Takes a little getting used to, though, so I wouldn't recommend it to just anyone.