Drove up with Susan and the kids to see mom and dad yesterday. It wasn't a good idea. It was Susan who talked me into it because "the kids need grandparents." You'd think she'd be happy to have in-laws out of the way, but no. Of course her own family is so Brady Bunch-like that she can't imagine it can be otherwise. As for Tyler and Carter, how much they need grandparents is up to debate, they're nearing that sullen pre-adolescent state. But I let myself be persuaded, after mom and dad are getting old and I might make an effort. But things were awkward at best, with dad burrying himself in his den, Susan and the boys giving up and sitting on the sofa in the living room to catch an afternoon show. I found myself in the kitchen with mom. It always oppressed me with its shelves filled chockablock with pots of spices. Does she even ever use them? So there she sat, furtively smoking a cigarette and drinking one of her appalingly sweet herbal teas, and obviously, at one point began talking about George.
I so do not want to hear about George. I don't even remember him.