Mom is continuing--for over an hour now--to throw fits, slam things, accuse dad of moving stuff, call him names. Whether or not dad is there. He came downstairs at one point, where I am, to get ready himself.
Dad: It's the disease.
A.: Is it? She pulled this $hit before. Remember Arizona?
Dad: I'll never forget Arizona.
A.: This is just what she does.
Then, another hour or so of fits, violent name-calling from upstairs.
She pretty much pulls this kind of thing when it's time to celebrate anyone else in whatever way. It's her best friend's birthday, but she's going to crap on him because she feels like it. She did this at both of my graduations. It's just what she does.
***
Mom eventually settled down and got dressed, just in time. She actually behaved herself at and enjoyed the party. As a bonus, I was seated separately (with Nina's niece, nephew, and brother-in-law, all of whom I hung out with at the wedding week, and a few other people--the most English-competent of the guests, for the BIL's benefit). I've known the niece and nephew (and other, absent nephew) since they were tiny (I'd noted at the wedding week that I'd diapered all of them), but being around them didn't make me feel old. It made me feel better about the future of humanity.
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