Dial H for Hateful

Charlotte tells me about how, in her own defense, she competently and maturely explains to Mom that she does not want to discuss politics with her. They don't agree across the board and Charlotte is still making up her mind and would like to make the decision on her own.  She just wants to have  a conversation, not a fight. And it always turns into one.

And Mom begins yelling, natch.

Yelling about conspiracy theories.
Yelling about socialism.
Yelling about a czar or a tyrant of an imperial wizard or some such all-powerful fairytale word she's assigned to the President. (Mom must have missed the Checks and Balances./Three branches of government lecture in Civics class.)

And while she is yelling, she also begins insulting.

Charlotte has no idea what she is talking about.
Charlotte is poorly informed.
Charlotte needs some advice.
Charlotte should vote for Romney because he is the candidate that is most like her husband. (I think this is when Charlotte actually reached a rolling boil.)

Now in hindsight, what Charlotte might have said, if her head weren't spinning, would have been something akin to "Mom, we obviously don't agree on everything even though we often vote the same way.  I respect your opinion and I'd like you to respect mine, however different from your own. I am going to get off the phone now so you can take whatever pill it is you take to morph back into a rational adult human. I will call you once the election is over."

She tries. Honestly she does. I give her credit for that. In my last few conversations with Mom I have resorted to firing a few parting insults of my own, peppered with colorful swear words, and hanging up.  (And then waiting for the letter...)

But Mom can't just step back and recognize Charlotte (or any of her children for that matter) as a fully matured, educated, successful woman with a purposeful life and high moral standards of her own.  No, she has to break her opponent. Belittle and insult you until you are feeling puny and worthless and then maybe you will question your convictions and take her word on the election (or whatever other decision of import she feels she needs to intrude upon because Mother Knows Best.)

No, she takes the Ugly Train down the tracks a few more stops. Holds Charlotte up and judges her unfavorably against other people. People who can't even compare with Charlotte.  "I have nieces who will discuss politics with me!"

Good, Mom. Call them. Keep calling them until you discover the one departure in philosophy that renders them unworthy and decide to put them through the rigors of this uniquely horrifying little exercise.  Then they too will stop picking up the phone.

And she digs. Digs deep. Pulls out bitter reminders of every disagreement and disappointment she feels Charlotte is guilty of since the dawn of mankind.

And the conversation is just getting started.