Well, the last time we chatted I was writing about the abominable Christmas we spent with B's son and his girlfriend. That was almost four years ago, when she announced her oven had broken and her mother had to serve deviled eggs for dinner. I thought her oven had just broken that day, but no, it had been on-the-blink for seven months. Seven months! What a fiasco! The girlfriend (Carrie Cole, fb her) sat making love to her pitcher of martinis and did nothing. It was appalling and we eventually fled to Perkin's Restaurant for Christmas dinner. (See "Apropos of Nothing," June 25, 2021)
Well, joy oh joy! Scott called yesterday and started to apologize for their abusive behavior. I was hopeful, but guess what? They were both drunk. Again. So it didn't take long for the abuse to rev up. Again. She grabbed the phone and called me, and I quote, "a she devil with a smut mouth. You're white trash and a squaw". Wow, an insult to upstanding and respectable native women everywhere.
Charming.
They both need a program.
I feel very bad for B because we have given Scott everything. His weakness is his achilles heel. It has led to the loss of a father who loved him dearly.
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