It's My Life

by Bonacci

We love our children. We make sacrifices for them. We don’t ask for anything aside from appreciation and a little respect. I’d thought I’d done a decent job as a mom. Somewhere along the way though, something went wrong.

I’ve been witnessing the birth of a monster in the form of my 18 year-old daughter. Several weeks ago, she managed to get herself banished from my home after some jaw-dropping remarks she made to Mr. B, the 2nd most patient man in the world. I couldn’t defend her. What she did was so completely inappropriate, I wouldn’t have had a leg to stand on. Independent individual that she is, she went to my dad. Grandpa agreed that she could stay with him, the absolute most patient man in the world, until she went to Florida to finish her studies. The minor glitch of having tuition cut off was something she’d figure out later.

I started seeing the little snot taking advantage of Dad. I was amazed she had the nads to treat him the way she did. We’d discussed it. He said when she left his home, he was going to tell her not to come back. He made a commitment to take care of her until January and by God, he would honor it.

She returned from Columbia (the country) this week. It was some Christian Cultist thing. Oh, she was royalty! Treated like the queen she knows she is. People fawning over her, opening doors, serving and bowing at her feet! Wait. I volunteered at a church-sponsored charity just last week. I spent 5 hours cooking and doing dishes. I was thanked certainly, but nobody got the memo that they should be fawning over ME. Wrong religion, apparently.

Whilst she was busy being royal in Columbia, someone (probably her), managed to spill something on her laptop. Grandpa took her to look at new computers. She showed him the one she wanted, then he called me to get a “professional” opinion. I didn’t agree with her choice. I found a delightful young man (19) at Best Buy who didn’t agree with her choice either. Dad and I decided that she should be required to consult with the guy. Twenty minutes, on the way home from her job. He made a special trip out to her work to let her know.

I don’t know where Dad went. It wasn’t him who came back. It was Mt. Vesuvius, ready to erupt. Apparently she became verbally abusive with him because he’d gone to her very important job of babysitting. The fart went “home” and got a confrontation. My dad’s a patient man; He’s also the scariest thing in the world when he’s angry. I had a front-row seat, folks.
Basically, the little snot told Dad she had “like, 80” different places she could have gone after being tossed from my home. So really, it was an honor that she went to her Grandpa. Did you all feel the eruption? Anybody get burned by spewing lava? I had enough. I told her that if she had so many places to go, maybe she should go. Grandpa agreed.

So now my daughter has managed to alienate every person who would have helped her. It will be hard for me to stand by and watch her suffer. I think though, that it’s necessary. At this point, it’s her life. Maybe she’ll understand one day that it’s a lesson she needed to learn. Maybe not. The house of Bonacci is done being a doormat.