Okay, so my aunt from New Zealand (bat-shit Aunty M) has indeed landed in Canada. Bat-shit Aunty M and my Mother will be visiting us, here in the cold and rainy Seattle-like 'Peg, next week. My mother, the Polish Princess, has made certain, erm, demands. And that's the polite way of saying it.
Above and beyond the things already mentioned in previous rant, they now want me to book them a vacation to Cuba. Yup, Cuba. For the lowest price possible. At least 4 star. White sand. Frontbeach. You heard me. Not beachfront, but frontbeach. Okay, I'm a loving daughter - I'll do it. So I look online and they have decent deals of about $1400 for 2 people. Good stuff. Will my mother let me book it? No, of course not. She makes me call the Cuban embassy in Toronto first to make sure Bat-shit Aunty M can travel on a New Zealand passport. I'd like you to keep in mind that I am currently located in Winnipeg. My mother is not. She is, in actuality, currently located in said Toronto. Why do I have to call, you ask? Because my English is better. As far as I know, and please correct me if I'm wrong, but the official language of both Canada and New Zealand is still English, so they should be able to speak it fairly well, right? Well enough to ask "Can a person travel to Cuba on a New Zealand passport", right? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Apparently they are somehow challenged when speaking into a phone and using the English language that they have both been speaking for over 20 years now, but whatever. Who am I to say anything? But the Cuban embassy is only open Tuesday to Friday, 10 AM to 1 PM. So I have to wait to call. By this time the cheap trips have ceased to be and are expensive again. $1800, to be precise. And who's fault is that? If you guessed mine, you win the jackpot. I'll even throw in an extra Mother and Aunt, just for kicks. Then she badgers me as to why I haven't booked the trip yet, even though she refuses to pay the previously stated amount. Does this conversation even make sense? I proceed to throw a fit so loud that I wake poor citrusboy up. Bad daughter. Bad wife.
Then she wants me to book a reservation at the 360 restaurant. Which is in the CN Tower. Which is in Toronto. Again I say, I AM IN WINNIPEG, but no matter. Apparently the dynamic duo also cannot use the phone and speak English at the same time in order to ask "Can we get a table for dinner at 5 on Tuesday?" So I email the restaurant. Mission Reservation accomplished. Then my mother calls and says the reservation now has to be for Wednesday. Can I change it? Fine. I email them again, and 360 graciously changes it for me. Then my mother calls AGAIN. Guess what? Yes, that's right, the reservation now has to be for Thursday. So I email 360 AGAIN. This time they ignore me. They have decided that they are dealing with a crazy woman and damn if they're not right. I decide to leave it because god knows, the woman will change her mind again. And she does. This time they've decided that they won't go until they get back from Cuba. Lucky me.
Oh yeah, and I also have to buy an extra quilt because they can't share one when they stay here. Oh yeah, and they'll be sleeping in our bed. Because it is unseemly to sleep in the living room, where the futon resides. God help me.
I really don't think a ticket to New York is worth this agony. Seriously, it's only, like, $259. One way. I'm okay with that. With tax, both ways, it should come out to...only $650. HOLY SHIT. Wow. I think I just suffered a stroke and a brain hemorrhage all at once. So that's what it feels like. For that amount of money, citrusboy and I could go to Cuba ourselves! I guess I have no choice but to put up with their crazy-ass ideas. *sigh* I feel the life slowly seeping out of my body and becoming one with the never-ending rain.
Above and beyond the things already mentioned in previous rant, they now want me to book them a vacation to Cuba. Yup, Cuba. For the lowest price possible. At least 4 star. White sand. Frontbeach. You heard me. Not beachfront, but frontbeach. Okay, I'm a loving daughter - I'll do it. So I look online and they have decent deals of about $1400 for 2 people. Good stuff. Will my mother let me book it? No, of course not. She makes me call the Cuban embassy in Toronto first to make sure Bat-shit Aunty M can travel on a New Zealand passport. I'd like you to keep in mind that I am currently located in Winnipeg. My mother is not. She is, in actuality, currently located in said Toronto. Why do I have to call, you ask? Because my English is better. As far as I know, and please correct me if I'm wrong, but the official language of both Canada and New Zealand is still English, so they should be able to speak it fairly well, right? Well enough to ask "Can a person travel to Cuba on a New Zealand passport", right? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Apparently they are somehow challenged when speaking into a phone and using the English language that they have both been speaking for over 20 years now, but whatever. Who am I to say anything? But the Cuban embassy is only open Tuesday to Friday, 10 AM to 1 PM. So I have to wait to call. By this time the cheap trips have ceased to be and are expensive again. $1800, to be precise. And who's fault is that? If you guessed mine, you win the jackpot. I'll even throw in an extra Mother and Aunt, just for kicks. Then she badgers me as to why I haven't booked the trip yet, even though she refuses to pay the previously stated amount. Does this conversation even make sense? I proceed to throw a fit so loud that I wake poor citrusboy up. Bad daughter. Bad wife.
Then she wants me to book a reservation at the 360 restaurant. Which is in the CN Tower. Which is in Toronto. Again I say, I AM IN WINNIPEG, but no matter. Apparently the dynamic duo also cannot use the phone and speak English at the same time in order to ask "Can we get a table for dinner at 5 on Tuesday?" So I email the restaurant. Mission Reservation accomplished. Then my mother calls and says the reservation now has to be for Wednesday. Can I change it? Fine. I email them again, and 360 graciously changes it for me. Then my mother calls AGAIN. Guess what? Yes, that's right, the reservation now has to be for Thursday. So I email 360 AGAIN. This time they ignore me. They have decided that they are dealing with a crazy woman and damn if they're not right. I decide to leave it because god knows, the woman will change her mind again. And she does. This time they've decided that they won't go until they get back from Cuba. Lucky me.
Oh yeah, and I also have to buy an extra quilt because they can't share one when they stay here. Oh yeah, and they'll be sleeping in our bed. Because it is unseemly to sleep in the living room, where the futon resides. God help me.
I really don't think a ticket to New York is worth this agony. Seriously, it's only, like, $259. One way. I'm okay with that. With tax, both ways, it should come out to...only $650. HOLY SHIT. Wow. I think I just suffered a stroke and a brain hemorrhage all at once. So that's what it feels like. For that amount of money, citrusboy and I could go to Cuba ourselves! I guess I have no choice but to put up with their crazy-ass ideas. *sigh* I feel the life slowly seeping out of my body and becoming one with the never-ending rain.
4 comments:
Heh heh heh... can't stop laughing....
If you want, I can email 360 for the next reservation so they don't think that you're totally crazy.
See, this is why I'm not having children. I figure my kids would need so much therapy after I was done with them that it would bankrupt the entire health care system. Add that to the double whammy of my mother as grandmother and being half Polish and they'd be screwed for life!
Yes, I think I'll take you up on that email. But this time they're not going unless I go with them! That way they cannot change their minds.
LOL Mother woes! In continuation of comment #4 on "Now I Know How Lorelai Feels," I resigned myself to just happening to be in Puerto Plata this weekend. In short, my parents arrived today, and I will be driving 4 hours to see them tomorrow afternoon---just to drive 4 hours back to Santo Domingo on Sunday. What fun!
But, as a small consolation, my mom offered to pay for the day passes for George and I to stay at the hotel with them, which I thought was nice.
So now mom is happy, and I won't be falling victim to any guilt trips, at least for now...
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