Here's the latest. (I didn't figure out the email blocking thing correctly, dammit.)
From Brad to me, he didn't cc anyone.
I'm sorry but I just can't help myself. I know you'll hand this one right off to Lance but it really bears asking. I'm pretty sure I know what Lance and Chip do all day. What better things do you do with the 50% of your time that my mom has your kids, besides mess with my brother's and my relationship?
Perhaps if you were busier with your family you wouldn't have so much time to play your mentally fragile and unstable games on your and my family. Lance couldn't explain what Marisa and I should be apologizing for. Can you?
I know. Petty and probably more helpful to your selfish cause than the peace it brings me to finally say it but something has to give here. Can you answer the question of what we owe you an apology for? Lance had to get up and leave the table because he was so frustrated with his inability to put his finger on it. I believe in today's note he actually asked me to think of something to apologize to you for.
Help me out. Help the (Last name) family out Amy (my maiden name). Or do you enjoy this?
My reply.
That's beautiful, Brad.
I wish you the best, and hope you get the professional help you sorely need. When you do, I'd be happy to lay out exactly what you need to apologize for.
However --- just for example's sake--you could apologize for the insults you've been slinging my way and Lance's way in this email and the others. Oh, and let's not forget that lovely voicemail. Those are just the tip of the iceberg, and the most obvious. If you were in a rational place, you would not need me to spell this out for you.
I hope you and your wife manage to have some sort of happy holiday. I also hope your mother and father are able to enjoy theirs, knowing the pain you have willingly and knowingly caused them and your own brother.
I've added your email address to my junk list, so there is no need to reply to this.
I am trying really hard to not get upset about this, as obviously that is his intention. Lance's parents are a complete wreck, but still maintaining their "don't talk about it, and it will go away" stance.
I tried--valiantly, I tried!--not to respond at all, but finally I had to. I now wish I hadn't.
Lance isn't home, and I'm not sure when I'm going to show him this latest round. I don't want to show it to him at all because I don't want to upset him, but I know I have to.
Happy Fucking Holidays!
(Please, dear god in heaven, whoever you may be, please let this be the last time I ever have to write anything about those assholes. PLEASE.)
Thursday, December 22, 2005
I want to stop, but it keeps getting better.
Posted by Piece of Work at 8:05 PM
Labels: In-law follies
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