The Number You Have Reached Has Been Disconnected

The text traffic continues for a short time more. I can't tell which texts are being forwarded by Charlotte or if there is a comment to me from Joe, but for good measure, I send him a message.

"A Message from AT&T: Your message has been blocked at the recipient's request. Msg6567*"

I am hoping that it is official enough to fool him. A similar message to Lars a few months back did the trick.  And Joe is a whole lot more slow-witted than my ex-husband, recreational drugs notwithstanding.

If he weren't so completely pathetic and aggravating, it would be easy to feel sorry for him. He's managed to run off the only worthwhile people in his life and is left surrounded by dozens of complete morons.  It took my mother decades to make the same mistake. Joe has done it in record time.

I am sure that he and Estelle are commiserating about this. He is whining on his cell phone from a remote location so his shrew wife will not know he's contacted his mother. Mom is screeching like a howler monkey into the mouthpiece of her Trac-Phone that my sister and I are wicked Hell-bound bitches with superior attitudes and not an ounce of kindness toward anyone but each other.

What-ev.  If it gets you through the night, rock on. I have a life to live. And it doesn't need to be mired in your nonsense, my dear mother and brother.  Don't bother me. Tell your little story to People Magazine.

In the meantime, I tell the story, the abridged Reader's Digest version, to Scott. He OH MY GODs his way through my meandering story, amused by the Hollywood outrageousness of it (I may as well be Lindsay Lohan's daughter) and empathetic about what a horror it is to live through each of these painfully realistic visions of Hell. I finish by telling him that my farewell to my mother was not dramatic and had no sense of finality. It was as though I could bump into her any day. No hint that we may never lay eyes on eachother again. I give my kids more meaningful goodbyes when I let them out of the car at school. 

She did mention though, that she'd be getting an early start and driving straight through to her home.  Read that "Not stopping to see Babs and Frank on the way back." 

Scott says, "Your mom is running out of places to stay."

True. Mom has managed to run off a couple more of her faithful friends.  And family, at that. It amazes me that she still blames them. Amazes me that she hasn't seen herself as the common denominator.

But my amazement is short lived. I have bigger fish to fry. My kitchen is about to be renovated.