Spiders and ER’s

When a neurotic, borderline personality-inflicted nutcase is desperate for attention, you will know it.  Trust me.  I have been living with Crow in our lives, wanted or not, for over a decade now, so I am a bit of a self-proclaimed expert.

For whatever reason, lately she needs attention from Gary like she needs oxygen (and an anti-psychotic drug).  It’s hard not to notice, because suddenly his phone blows up with text after text, bestowing upon us information we already know, and when that doesn’t work, fabricated accusations she tugged gleefully from her backside.

Like the gem the other evening, screeching that Bear was viciously devoured by a man-eating spider (what’s with all the spider posts lately, anyway?  They just worked their way into a starring role in my life, I guess).  The self-righteous text declared in no uncertain terms that this heinous mauling occurred on our very property: specifically, in between our front porch and Gary’s truck.

Stifling a chuckle, I had to wonder how she zeroed in on the crime scene when she wasn’t there, at least as far as we need knew.  Maybe she was balanced precariously in a neighbor’s tree, binoculars plastered to her wrinkles, just waiting for something like a spider attack to happen and victoriously exclaiming “I KNEW IT!”

Anyway, the alleged spider blitzkrieg left a gaping wound apparently a mile wide above Bear’s eye, according to Crow, but even though she insisted this happened on Sunday, she didn’t take him to the doctor until late Tuesday.  Maybe she was just too horrified and distraught to think straight, instead of just bat-shit crazy, like usual.  Who knows.  But her text punctuated the fact that the doctor confirmed her nasty suspicion (and her god-given affinity for identifying arachnid nibbles) that it was, indeed, a spider bite.

Silly ol’ Bear told us that his mother was making a big deal out of nothing.  Obviously the spider venom is infecting his poor, addled brain, because who would possibly doubt the virtuous word of Crow?   Please, don’t let the paltry fact that she is a compulsive liar sway your acceptance of her claims.

Crow must have been kicking herself when, mere hours after firing off insulting and accusing texts about us allowing Bear to be subjected to a savage, depraved arachnid, she was forced to send yet another text to Gary…this time letting him know that Sunflower was in the Emergency Room with a possible broken wrist (due to lack of supervision or overall giving a shit about the kids and what they’re doing…I’m throwing in that last part simply for accuracy).

Damn.  Must suck to fling false accusations at the other parent, then be forced to ‘fess up to what a shitty mother you are from the Emergency Room.  That makes at least ten ER visits since I’ve known the kids, and all I can say is, they all happened on your watch, Mother of the Year.

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About TheSmirkingCat

I am endlessly trying to make sense of a world that has completely and unapologetically lost its mind.
This entry was posted in bad mother, crazy bitch, injury, kids, spiders, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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