Sigh. Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of The Kid moving in with me. I smiled and wished him “Happy Anniversary!” Last night and he just gave a grunt. I know he’s not happy about the situation, but no one is going to come knocking on the door offering him wads of money for simply breathing, so he better get out there and find something before I do something drastic.
Mom and I were talking about The Kid the other night and agreed this situation is very much like my childhood – dad lived in his own little world (although not as shut off as The Kid) doing his hobbies, out in his room or shed, while Mom worked two jobs to make ends meet. You see, my dad couldn’t work just any job – he needed to be “inspired” and “fulfilled” and ordinary jobs just wouldn’t cut it for him.
I remember being angry about the situation as a teen – Mom would leave early for her day job and arrive home as my sister and I were coming home from school, then she would leave again for a night job several days a week. It would have been different if dad had done all the housework and been a real house-husband, but my sis and I did the chores while he did…nothing much.
He was also a passive-aggressive asshole who used the silent treatment constantly as punishment. My memories are a bit blurred, honestly, but I’m sure his personality influenced my attitude towards men in general and husbands in particular. Thank all that’s holy he and Mom are divorced – I don’t think I could speak to him without giving him an earful about what an asshole he was and I don’t even care who might hear me.
Wow. This is going off the rails.
I got a job as soon as the ink was dry on my work permit and I’ve worked at something constantly ever since. I resent supporting an able-bodied man who refuses to do whatever is necessary to support his family. Granted, The Kid doesn’t have any people to be responsible for, but he could collect enough cans and bottles each month to pay his cell phone bill at least!
He’s lazy, sloppy, and irresponsible. He was not raised this way and has never known his grandpa, yet here we are. His father didn’t work much, but he didn’t know him, either. Those two men are the only men in his family tree that did not work to support their families – a perfect Nature vs. Nurture argument, if one is so inclined, and I am 🙂
Anyway. I’m angry. I’m disappointed. I’m irritated by his constant presence in My Space. Towanda was supposed to be a Penis Free Zone. I was never going to smell someone else’s feet or cooking smells or B.O. While I still have ultimate control over the things that matter, I have no privacy or freedom. Sure, having a built-in dog-sitter is nice, but I can live without that just fine.
I ran an idea past Mom and I think she liked it: When the weather changes, The Kid will go to Grandma’s house to turn over her yard. She has Big Plans for some changes and they need a strong back and a shovel, both of which The Kid has – he was trained to use a shovel at a young age (WTF hasn’t he taken a job digging ditches or something, then? Oh, wait! That’s not “fulfilling” work!) so he will have lots of time to contemplate his next move while he moves dirt. Mom hates to paint, so that should be added to her list of things for him to do – inside and out, whatever she needs done. He also cleans but needs to be supervised so he doesn’t cut corners. I want her to use him like a rented mule! I just don’t have enough physical labor to keep him busy and exhausted.
Next, I think he should go stay with my sister for a week or two and deep clean and paint her house – she and her husband both work long hours and just don’t have time to do as much as they would like to. He’s a pretty great cook, so dinners should be included in his chores – they deserve to be able to relax in the evening.
My hope is that he would see the value in working and some of the work ethic of his family might rub off onto him and spur him into making a move towards an independent life. Sis lives in Portland, so he’d be back near his old turf where he might have better luck finding a job.
I dunno. I do know I’ve had enough. I can’t seem to motivate him and everyone says it would be cruel to just put him out on the street while the weather is so bad, so there he sits, on my couch, breathing my air, sucking the life right out of me.
I am SO DONE with this Mom Gig!
What would YOU do?