Have you ever heard of Confetti Easter eggs? We went to Corpus Christi for Easter and they were everywhere. It’s a Mexican tradition. My brother’s friend kept telling us you hit someone in the head with them and it is good luck. We just looked at each other with a look that said “Nobody better not hit me with an egg in my face!”
I brought some home but didn’t have the nerve to throw one at my stepdad. It’s muy messy and he would kill me.
As all family events go for me, this one was weird. My family is as dysfunctional as any other; that includes my immediate family, my step family and my extended family. None of them know how to behave in a proper manner. On any given day, they are mouthing off on Facebook. Half the time you can’t understand what they are saying because they cannot spell or string a sentence together properly.
My stepdad is my anchor and the smart one. He doesn’t get involved with any of it. He works and he goes fishing.
I know my family exasperates my mental condition. So, I’ve become like my stepdad. I try to keep to myself as much as possible.
As I write this, I have to take deep breaths remembering how my family acts. But, I have a hard time resisting one person. My brother. He can be charming. He can handle a crisis. When I had my first breakdown, I was never so glad to see him and have him handle everything for me. On the other hand, he did go through literally everything in my apartment. No rock was left unturned. He was all in my business and asking a million questions.
Prince Charming he is not. He can also be a drunk. He’s a girlfriend beater. He’ll fight with anybody really. I’ve loaned him a ton of money desperately wanting him to behave and do the right thing. It’s hard to stop that practice. But, I’m swearing that I won’t give him anything else. The money well is dry.
We can talk. I can try to give advice. In fact, I’m going to start sending him cards and writing him letters like we are pen pals.
Anyway, we were on our way to his house for an Easter visit when we got a call from a friend of his that he was in the emergency room. He got into a fight with his neighbor. Basically, the neighbor had called the pound on my brother’s dog that had gotten out of the fenced backed yard. How the physical fight between the neighbor and my brother got started is unclear. But, my brother got the worst of it when the neighbor’s girlfriend got out a baton of some sort and hit my brother in the face several times.
When we rolled into town, we went straight to the emergency room. We found my brother with a busted open cheek and two black eyes. Were we shocked? Not at all. In fact, we went shopping, settled into his house and ordered dinner. We’ve been down this road with him countless times.
My brother ended up pressing charges against the people but the neighbor was on the run. The neighbor kept sneaking into his house at night moving his stuff out. And, my brother kept calling the police. The neighbor would be gone by the time they got there.
Each night, my mom would complain about the noise and the barking dogs. As for me, I would just take my medications and I sleep like a baby.
The following day, we had a Louisiana crawfish boil with my brother’s boss and work friends. My mom and I had brought live crawfish from Louisiana to Corpus Christi, Texas. After chowing down at the boil, we had to rescue my brother’s dog from the pound. Don’t they both look pathetic?
We spent the rest of the time at the beach! Man, I love the water.
And, despite the DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA, I still love my brother and it was sad to say good bye.
As for my diet, I didn’t even pay it one bit of attention. No counting points. No Weight Watchers. I ate what I wanted. Today, is my first day back. I’m not scheduled for another vacation until the end of June. Got lots of work to do between now and then . . . .