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| These are a few of his most hated things. |
My mom is a one of a kind. She's replaced traditional therapy for shopping in HomeGoods daily, has a great eye for color and clothing, and has no 'off' switch. Once she is into something....she is engrossed.
For example, I was in the process of redecorating my house in Brooklyn, NY about two years ago. I was on the market in search of some basics, a sofa, some end tables, a lamp, and a coffee table. When I asked mom for 'help' I didn't realize that within a month of my request, I'd be asking for help at getting her to stop.
I was ecstatic when mom found me a high back box stitch couch in a light grey vinyl at 50% off, I was stupefied when we found a server, and besides myself when I came across a swivel coffee table. The area rug, the paintings, and the giant lamp with end tables were all gravy. I was an adult, living in a very cool modern deco home.
I was happy, and all was good.
Mom, however, was not. She was just getting started.
She saw the color scheme of my living room-silver and black, so she found herself going to HomeGoods to pick up pieces that 'accented' those colors. Within three days and 6 visits to my home, mom had dropped off eight picture frames of various sizes, two vases-one 2 foot standing from the floor, another in the shape of an apple that blocked the port to Joe's t.v. remote (that one was quickly rejected), and a massive platter made of seashells-a grand centerpiece for our average sized dining room table.
When the card table in the front of the house began collecting mail, mom picked up silver mail-stands, and a mini two drawer stand, "so that you could throw everything inside for when company comes."
Then came the purple peacock feathers and silver studded weeping willow branches. The more mom came by to advise, the more I found Joe saying (once the door shut behind her), "You know I love your mother, but..."
Real men DON'T live in homes with feathers, pillows, mod printed ottomans and pink scotch glasses. They don't wipe their hands on personalized disposable napkins in their bathroom. They don't agree with painting the walls over if you're just planning to cover them up again with paintings.
Joe watched bug-eyed as the pillows began to pile. Black, purple, silver, and burgundy in the den. Brown and copper in Alan's bedroom. Pink, creme, and tan in Joycee's. Rust, burnt orange, chestnut, and pumpkin in our bedroom. Feathers and leathers, suede and satin, grommets and nail heads.
"Our house is turning into a fuckin' bed, one that I can't sleep in. You wanna know WHY I can't sleep??? Cuz there's no room on the bed with all the freakin pillows!!!" He says as he kicks a pillow out of bounds and down the stairs.
Our house has transformed into I dream of Jeanie's bottle, and Joe into Ralph Kramden (I would have preferred Major Nelson). I need to find the happy medium between my mom and some of the 'not for children's hands' accessories versus Joe and his 'let's go to Home Depot and I'll build it.'
My point, sometimes when you ask for help,
you find yourself screaming just that....
HELP!!!
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