Susan vs Labor Day.

I think I've spoken about Susan and her aversion to anything that might resemble a holiday (or touched on it, at least) … But I want to touch on it a bit more tonight.  

 

“Holidays” aren’t really holidays unless Susan 1) says they are 2) thinks she can get attention or money for them or 3) will have to defend her image for not celebrating. The big ones are Christmas, Easter, Halloween. Sometimes Thanksgiving, though Susan HATES Thanksgiving because 1) Susan hates food 2) Susan hates being reminded that others like food 3) Susan hates being reminded that others can cook more than hamburger helper and 4) Thanksgiving is a ploy by the skinny people to make the fat people (a group I’ve sat in since I was 8) fatter. 

 

 

When a “minor” holiday creeps up, such as Labor Day, Susan would much rather pretend it didn’t exist. Back when we, the minor children, lived with her, she’d bitch and complain that it was a terrible waste of a school day, we should be in school. I don’t recall EVER spending a minor holiday such as Labor Day, the 4th of July, Memorial Day, etc with Susan, probably because she’d inform my dad that she had zero interest in trying to entertain us, and we’d be at his house whether he liked it or not. If I dared ask to go to a friend’s house/camp/whatever for such a holiday, Susan would call their parents stupid for entertaining a bunch of kids for such a ridiculous day and go back and forth to the very last minute on whether I should be allowed to go or whether I should say no and go to my dad’s, to “study”.  

 

I moved from Susan’s at 14, and as a teenager, I had boyfriends and friends. And I didn’t LIVE with Susan, so Susan couldn’t (oh, but she tried!) really dictate what I did. We’d go to the lake, we’d go to the river, we’d fish, we’d cook out or camp, and I (as well as my dad) knew to keep my mouth SHUT about my whereabouts, because if Susan EVER found out I was out having fun instead of sitting at home contemplating ways to get skinny and kiss my poor doting mother’s ass, there would be hell to pay.  

 

Now, my brother and I are okay now, but growing up, we never got along. He was a homebody, he’d much rather sit for days on end and play his video games, and he didn’t give a flying fuck about friends or fun, because why would he? He had every video game console known to mankind and when he was at my dad’s he could sit and play and inhale pizza rolls, hot pockets, and popcorn chicken by the pound without Susan fussing about “him getting fat”. The only problem with ME growing up and getting friends/boyfriends was that I wasn’t there as his buffer. This particular holiday, it was the second week of school, the very next day to Labor Day he would have his summer reading book report due and his book knowledge test, and HE HADN’T READ IT because, well... Video games. In the past, I’d been bribed by BOTH parents to sit and read to him aloud as he played his video games and piece together a semi legible book report for him to turn in, but... I had plans and he had literally waited till the last minute. It was WEDNESDAY, and I was making plans for MY weekend, and he was having a heart attack because he had absolutely nothing done.  

 

 

So, what do you do when faced with such a dilemma and you have a narcissistic mother handy to put the hammer down on her scapegoat? He called Susan. He complained (not that I hadn’t done his school work, he was much smarter than that) that I was going out for a WHOLE WEEKEND and he felt left out because 1) he wasn’t invited and 2) I was “rubbing it in”.  

 

Oh, there was hell to pay. Susan pitched a fit of epic proportions and informed all of us that of COURSE my brother would tell her if I left and went somewhere without him, and if so, she’d take my dad back to court to get custody of me back. That was her main threat, always. She’d force me to live back with her. Never mind that she still got my entire child support and every ounce of support for me she’d gotten from the beginning, even with me NOT LIVING WITH HER. She had leverage, and she’d fucking use it.  

 

I was distraught, because it wasn’t fair. Why was everything I looked forward to ripped from me just because I didn’t do the bidding of the narc and her son with narc fleas? But my aunt (dad’s sister), bless my aunt. She was determined to make it up to me. She immediately booked a full 3 days/nights at the beach with an awesome outlet mall, an oceanfront condo, and promises of good food and lots of shopping. This was HUGE, because my aunt HATES the beach, she can’t swim, and she despises all things hot, but.... This was for me. And my brother (who also hates all things hot and the beach generally doesn’t have an xbox setup) was going, and he’d get over himself. The only stipulation was that I needed to read that goddamn book to him on the 4-hour drive down there... And I did.  

 

 

 

We never did tell Susan about that one. I feel like it was a big fuck you to her. I got a massive new wardrobe, anything I desired (I still remember my blinged out razr phone case), and my brother was MISERABLE. I feel bad that someone was miserable, but he brought it on himself.  

 

 

I wish I could say that he learned that fucking with evil never brings you wins, but it’d be years before he came across that particular lesson.  

 

 

So, that’s my Susan/Labor Day story!  

 

On an aside, my family and I are going out on the boat for a weekend at the lake, swimming and fishing. Somewhere, Susan is clutching her pearls and can’t figure out why, because only “people who are stupid with money” have boats.  

 

Ya’ll have a good Labor Day 😉