on the road again
I’m visiting my mom and her husband with the kids this week. My step-father had some serious health challenges earlier in the summer, which meant that my mom postponed a planned visit to us, and here I am. Landisdad, that bastard, had plans for this whole weekend, so in a moment of folly I thought, “why don’t I take the kids to the middle of Red-State-that-I-Hate (h/t jo(e))?”
Inevitably, when I go to visit my mother, I spend a couple of days beforehand wondering how she will piss me off (and if my step-father’s going to be there, what he will say that will be so patently offensive that I won’t be able to let it slide). Since my mom has been married to my step-father, she’s turned into the kind of person who can only tell a story about a person of color by mentioning their race (I’ve thought about starting all my stories with “so I was standing in line next to this white woman” but I’m not sure she’d get it). My step-father, on the other hand, is just an old-school racist.
When I made the plan to come down here, I got a motel. I know better than to stay with them and my kids for four days. We need a buffer zone. This one is about a half-hour from their house, so it’s a pretty big buffer.
Last night, we went over there for dinner. When we got there, my step-father was sitting in front of his ginormous tv, watching Fox News, which he turned off just to come to the dinner table. We had a fine, incident-free dinner, then my mom suggested that we go see “Bedtime Stories,” which was playing in their retirement community’s clubhouse. Again, fine. The kids got a little squabbly in the car after the movie was over, but that’s to be expected after a long day of traveling.
We dropped off my mom, and the Potato ran in to use their bathroom—when we got inside, my step-father was still sitting in front of Faux News (“WILL THE DEMOCRATS MANAGE TO DESTROY THE COUNTRY & LIFE AS WE KNOW IT WITH SOCIALIST HEALTH CARE REFORM?!?”). As we were leaving, my step-father said, “Have fun over there (at the motel) with the rednecks!” The Potato asked, “what does that mean?”
Sigh.
It means we’re not done avoiding my step-father for another visit.
Bumblebee Sweet Potato 
Library Lady replied:
My uncle was like that–a Jewish Archie Bunker. My father, his own brother, wasn’t fond of him.
He insisted that he come to my wedding, and I had one of the biggest fights I’ve ever had with my parents over it. He did come, and fortunately did nothing stupider than to wish my in-laws a happy Chinese New Year, when the only Chinese member of the family is my sister-in-law’s husband.
Fortunately, my Filipino in-laws are used to such stuff, and took it in stride.
Be grateful you’re at least not related by BLOOD to this guy. And hang in there!
July 17, 2009 at 9:17 pm. Permalink.
jackie replied:
I have felt similarly about whole swathes of my family. Sigh. It’s especially important to me with the kids now– there’s so much I don’t want them to hear, especially coming from the mouths of people they love.
July 23, 2009 at 3:04 pm. Permalink.