Weird of me to make that my subject line. I had barely heard of the Ramones when - whatever his name was - died not so long ago. I don't think I ever consciously heard any of their songs. But this line just really fits. I think last Christmas there weren't any major fights. But I can barely remember a Christmas we didn't fight. Usually about the same things everytime. And never anything that's really worth the trouble.
I hate it when they fight. Usually I am not part of it. Unless my Dad manages to push the right buttons, I can stay out of it. (My Dad has the uncanny ability to always say exactly the wrong thing.)
Mom says that when I was a kid, I used to simply not hear things I didn't want to hear. I would stand looking at her, seemingly listening, but when asked something, I would get this "Who me??" look of total disbelief. Apparently, that makes it very hard to deal with me sometimes.
But I hate quarrels and fights, especially on Christmas. The holidays I spent in America were like a revelation. I saw that it was actually possible to spend Christmas with your family without fighting.
I don't think we'll manage this time. Not if my Dad still wants pity because he's soooo sick and everybody's mean to him. Not if my sister wants to be treated like the queen and most beloved of the family. Not if my mother plays nice until she can't take it no more and snaps - usually at the wrong time. Not if my older brother looks at everything with the slight disdain and contempt that is too fine for my Dad to understand. Not if his girlfriend has no answers to the questions she thinks my parents have no right to ask (like "How are your studies going?" or "What are your plans once you finished University?"). Not if my brother-in-law tries to mediate by complimenting people - something my family can't take. Not if my younger brother gets angry - and he has avery violent temper.
And I will just go away up in my room and pretend I am not at home instead of trying to calm down the tempest.
For a family who places so much value on knowledge and thinking, we're horrible when we get together. It seems the proximity of the others brings out the worst in all of us. And we use all our learning and wit just to hurt each other in the worst possible way. Sometimes I think it's be easier to deal with people who fight with their fists instead of their words. A punch might leave a bruise that takes a while to heal. Words cut deeper and they leave no visible scars.
( more pointless ramblings about my family )
I hate it when they fight. Usually I am not part of it. Unless my Dad manages to push the right buttons, I can stay out of it. (My Dad has the uncanny ability to always say exactly the wrong thing.)
Mom says that when I was a kid, I used to simply not hear things I didn't want to hear. I would stand looking at her, seemingly listening, but when asked something, I would get this "Who me??" look of total disbelief. Apparently, that makes it very hard to deal with me sometimes.
But I hate quarrels and fights, especially on Christmas. The holidays I spent in America were like a revelation. I saw that it was actually possible to spend Christmas with your family without fighting.
I don't think we'll manage this time. Not if my Dad still wants pity because he's soooo sick and everybody's mean to him. Not if my sister wants to be treated like the queen and most beloved of the family. Not if my mother plays nice until she can't take it no more and snaps - usually at the wrong time. Not if my older brother looks at everything with the slight disdain and contempt that is too fine for my Dad to understand. Not if his girlfriend has no answers to the questions she thinks my parents have no right to ask (like "How are your studies going?" or "What are your plans once you finished University?"). Not if my brother-in-law tries to mediate by complimenting people - something my family can't take. Not if my younger brother gets angry - and he has avery violent temper.
And I will just go away up in my room and pretend I am not at home instead of trying to calm down the tempest.
For a family who places so much value on knowledge and thinking, we're horrible when we get together. It seems the proximity of the others brings out the worst in all of us. And we use all our learning and wit just to hurt each other in the worst possible way. Sometimes I think it's be easier to deal with people who fight with their fists instead of their words. A punch might leave a bruise that takes a while to heal. Words cut deeper and they leave no visible scars.
( more pointless ramblings about my family )