I’m absolutely, 100% sure that I would never, ever, want to be stuck ANYwhere with my husband’s grandmother Liana. She’s his father’s mother and she’s a complete nightmare of a human being. If ‘malevolent‘ had a face, it would be hers. She’s the single most unsatisfied person I’ve ever known and is quite open about it. She has no qualms about calling children ugly or her lawyer fat, in fact I was there when she met with him and it was the first thing she said even before ‘hello’. The fat thing is a particular disappointment for her. All the women in my husband’s family have been told how much weight they should lose, including myself. Thanks, you old bag.
We call her from time to time just to check-in and make sure she’s still breathing and it’s always ALWAYS a dreadful conversation. She’s NEVER well and can’t just say “Oh I’m fine, and you?”. No sir, she’s got to tell you every bowel movement she’s had that week, the consistency, the color, the frequency and if it was painful before, during, or after the movement completed. She also wants to tell you about how awful the weather is, how much she hates her new house shoes and how upset it makes her that no one ever calls. No, really? No one calls? Weird!
You could be thinking, oh she’s just old and bitter, there’s a deep caring women in her and she’s probably hurting, poor thing. You’d be wrong. I can only imagine that any weak little emotion like ‘hurt feelings’ is being pummeled and kicked out the psyche by the evil that keeps this ancient stack of bones alive.
After having to think about this topic I promise myself I’ll opt for the stairs on any occasion I might be with her rather than risk any more time than necessary alone with this woman.
Wow. Generally I’d feel bad writing such a post about someone. Not this time.