Tidings of Things to Come...

The 100th Birthday Party that is not happening has grown to 15.

My husband, who has taken time off work to help with his mother, has eaten all my Chipits, the children's Easter Eggs and a number of chocolate bars.

The matriarch was quite insistent about fish'n'chips today; I went to Toronto with the girls.

The children explained to their Dad the rule of "His Mom, His Mess." I know it is not charitable but the children will not, with a stress on the 'not,' clear their Grandma's side plate where she puts the remnants of things she cannot chew.

No one minds turning the television on for the Matriarch; nor does anyone complain when it is turned off; it is a whole other story when the Matriarch expects the channels to be changed. Apparently, it is not fair when my husband has to do the chore, too.

One of the reasons I make a lot of stews and soups is because the Matriarch cannot chew; meat is meat is meat--as my husband has also discovered.

This is not a kind post, I know. It is the world to which my husband has returned after a winter respite at work. I don't know if old people are aware of their tyranny at times; I don't know if I begin to resent someone for the very fact they are old; do I expect the matriarch to know she is being difficult? But, then, is she really all that hard to deal with considering she is 100 years old? She cannot publicly complain about the party she is not having because her sister-in-law keeps inviting relatives the Matriarch thought were already dead. Go figure.