Everyone has different coping mechanisms for processing information they don't like. My mother's is to repeat the question that yielded the information in question, in case she gets a different answer next time.
This is partly a continuation of the down comforter saga. We've aired out the comforter, and my mother is very kind to offer to sew a case around it. As alluded to previously, the room I'm sleeping in is sort of the storage area for bedding and such. On my way to bed, I had to once again jump over things that had been tossed onto the floor (not as much fun to toss them onto the bed when I'm not trying to make said bed) to get there. I successfully navigate the obstacle course and change into my pajamas, and am in the process of crawling into bed, when my mom comes back in. She looks at me incredulously and asks, "you're going to bed?? now?" I just said yes. I didn't say, "yes, I'm going to bed now. It's past 10pm, I feel like crap, and I've already taken nighttime cold medicine so I'm even more tired. Why is it so revolutionary that I'm going to bed??"
She navigates the obstacle course toward the big closet, pulls some more stuff out. I ask her to please close the closet door, as there's cold air coming out. She says something like, "I think it's perfectly warm in here. It's just a question of what you're used to." This is another of my mother's regular themes: in spite of her best efforts, I'm just not acclimated to the cold. Just this morning actually I got a lecture about how I shouldn't be wearing slippers-- I should get my feet used to being cold.
Anyway, my mother ruffles through stuff for a few minutes, is lecturing me about something, and then, looks at me (in bed, in my pajamas, looking miserable) and says, "you're going to bed now??"
After another few minutes, it looks like she's found what she wanted and is leaving the room. I ask her again to please close the closet door. At this, she gets really upset and slams it shut. I look up and say, "what is the problem?" She says, "you've finally gotten to me!" and something like "maybe if you ever did anything yourself, I wouldn't have to be rummaging through here?"
I asked her what exactly she wanted me to do myself. She knows I can't sew. But there I went, searching for logic, before I realized that this was another familiar pattern-- who knows exactly what she's upset about-- maybe she doesn't feel like sewing a cover for the comforter. Fine. I'd offered to just buy one anyway, it seemed a lot easier. When in doubt-- when she feels like being angry at me but can't justify the feeling, she resorts to the "you never help me with anything/I'm the only one who ever does any work around here" lines. It's a classic fallback. I actually should have known it was coming, should have sensed the 'I'm the only one who cleans' mood coming on, because there was a preview right before dinner. I was working between the table and the counter, still had the ginger left to grate so it was separate from everything that was already done. She saw it on the counter and said, haughtily, "did you know that you had left the ginger on the counter?" And when I said, "yes, I'm just about to use it now," she looked crestfallen that she didn't have something to yell at me about and made some snide comment anyway. Back to that evening... she slammed the room door shut too and stormed out. And this morning she seems to have recovered from her anger. For now.
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