Dec 23

My Christmas tree fell over earlier. Only two ornaments broke, but I got in trouble for it.
Why on earth it was my fault the tree fell is beyond me, my dad's just a jerk.
I'm also in super duper extra trouble for having a candle burning in the same room as the Christmas tree, heaven forbid. He broke the whole candle holder and my candle.
But I'm sorry that the tree fell, since it was obviously my fault. The tree definitely fell because the front of it was far too heavy with ornaments and not because it shifted in the base, no. Because then it'd be his fault. And nothing's ever his fault.
It's also dandy that my mom's just blaming his jerky-ness on the time of the year. It's not that he's just a jerk or a mean person, no, it's that it's Christmas time and Christmas stress is getting to him.
Except that it's not, because all of yesterday the decorations that I brought up from the basement two Thursdays ago were finally unpacked and put around the living room and staircase by my mother and myself. What did he do? Vacuum. That's it. The only "assistance" to the decorating of our home this year was helping me bring the Christmas tree in and vacuuming.
Who decorated the tree? Me.
Who waters the tree every day? Me.
Who put up lights outside? Me.
Who put decorations up in the living room? My mom.
Who decorated the stairs? Me.
Who put up her abundant amount snowmen around? My mom.
Who did most of the cleaning yesterday for the small group of my dad's friends coming over? Me and my mom.
And who's making all the cookies today? Me!
So it's definitely the Christmas stress.
Literally my mom just walked in, asked if I'd watered the tree since it'd fallen down, and since I hadn't, that was also a cause for the tree falling. It's all my fault.
And all I can ever do is sigh. Despite that I do argue it as of late, it never gets through her head. She's just living in a fantasy that she did marry a nice man and "there were always worse."
If there were worse, she must be seeing her old boyfriends on the FBI's most wanted list.
I love how that's always her excuse too. There were always worse. Mother, you are not a terrible person, you've just taught yourself to be blind. You could've found better. I know it.

And now we leave. To show him what? How a few hours of nice silence will affect his life? This is why I wouldn't mind if after they reached retiring time he decided to kick the bucket. After college, I'm never seeing them again. Mother's in a fantasy and father's an absolute jerk. If he died then I'd be pleased to visit every once in a while, but as long as he lives I'm never coming back.
So yeah, Merry Eve of Christmas Eve.