mentally and physically. Yesterday was hell at the "club" since it was Super Bowl Sunday and people had to have $300 worth of groceries each to watch it. No lie, the carts full of so much food that it would astound you. I stayed an extra hour and a half so that one of my co-workers could leave early to have dinner with her family to celebrate her daughter's 18th birthday. That wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't been working with the folks I was working with. I survived but by the time I left, I felt like I had been beaten with a battering ram.

I came home looking forward to a little dinner and a BIG drink and I no sooner had gotten changed and stuck my head in the fridge than my MIL called. Tommy had "taken his clothes and left" she told me. He wasn't coming back... Well hell, I knew that wasn't true. THEN she told me that A) she was sick of my son's mess and she was calling someone tomorrow to clean everything...he has plates and cups all over the office and there is paper and clothing everywhere...I told her I would be over in the morning to see what was up but she was adamant that she was going to go in there and start pitching stuff last night. The last time she went on a tear, she threw out Army information he needed. I put Tom on the phone and told him to straighten it out but she wasn't listening. Now God forbid he should miss some football and take care of his own mother but no way was he moving so I put my shoes back on and headed out.

I get to the house and I am furious. First, by this time I have talked to my son and he had simply gone out with friends to watch the game somewhere. He didn't take anything with him and had TOLD her when he would be back. I get to the house and she acts surprised that I am there. "Is there a problem?". (in the meantime while I am driving to her house, she has already alled here AGAIN!) I march into the office to see what the fuss is about and there is one cereal bowl and one paper plate on the desk. Yes, there were papers but there weren't even 24 pages...some were bills he had paid and some were Tom's. Thankfully, I did go over before she could toss stuff because all Tommy's tax papers were there.

We had a bit of a "come to Jesus" meeting as my GF calls it. I asked her if she wanted him to leave...of course not, she can't do much on her own and frankly at this point she likes being waited on (which is another sore point. I told her this was the last time I was listening to this crap too. If she doesn't like him living there, I will bring him home and that will be the end of it. SHe has to become a little more tolerant. I believe that in the end, she was just bored and wanted some attention... Well she got it!

I got home after 9 and by then could not eat and of course having had no dinner, couldn't drink. I sat and stewed until after 11 since if I had gone upstairs, I would have killed Tom. I finally went to bed and lay there until after midnight.

This morning Tom called (at 6:30) to make sure Mark was up (which he was, showered and dressed and ready to go out the door)and THEN he asked about his mom and I let him have it with both barrels. I told him that Tommy would stay there for one more month and then he was coming home (or going to Aberdeen for some classes he wants to take but has put off with everything that is going on) and then it would be TOM'S responsibility to take care of his mom even if that meant moving in with her. I am calling this morning on some apartment information and Tom is going to hit the bank this week and finish up all that stuff and we are moving her, end of story. I fail to see where is becomes my son's responsibility to be a parent to an 82 YO woman.

Well breakfast is about ready and Marth is on so I am settling in to sew and do nothing much for the rest of the day...Good grief, what a way to start a week.