My mom is finally moving in with my sister tomorrow. So the thanksgiving horror will be 120 miles away from me.
I’m still livid over what my mom did to my kitchen last Thanksgiving.
Last year my mom didn’t have a working oven at her house. The oven at my apartment did work. So being a kind son I said she could cook here and bring the food back to her house. There was one fucking rule. One simple fucking rule. You do not cook bacon in my house. I like bacon.. I do not like bacon grease. Or any grease for that matter. Pans used for cooking greasy things need to be isolated and treated on a per use basis.
My mother came in at 1AM while I was sleeping and no warning was given. She used every dish in my kitchen. I woke up to a nightmare in my kitchen. I was okay. I don’t mind doing dishes. Until I start to wash the dishes. Something feels off. So I dig through the trash and there is a bacon package.
She does this bacon and asparagus monstrosity. My mother, the monster, despite my one simple request, poured hot bacon grease all over a sink full of dishes.
I still feel the grease when I wash dishes a year later. I am pretty sure this was the maddest I have ever been.
I had just moved into my own place and I worked really hard to keep it clean. I would have been less angry if she took a shit in my bathtub.