Aunt Agony

The way that human beings interact has always fascinated me. It just never ceases to amaze me how we are all so different as people and yet strangely all so similar. It's also interesting that we often can't see these similarities or differences when we ourselves are involved. One of my aunts consistently astounds me with her lack of tact and empathy. I'll call her Aunt Agony (to protect the innocent, and more importantly, me). The truly uncanny thing is that my sister takes after her so much that it is frightening. Only of course, my sister cannot see the similarities. But then I don't dare bring it up often because if I did I'd have my head ripped off. AA is the older sister of my mother. AA has to have her say on everything and always knows best. I love her but I can only endure her in small doses. Much like my sister.

I went to a father's day BBQ at my grandparent's place with most of the Family-At-Large. Last night I was actually planning on chucking a sicky today. I just wasn't in the mood to put up with the FAL's shit. I laid the 'groundwork' by complaining of not feeling well and going to bed early. When I woke up this morning, I was in a lot of pain but in a good mood, so I decided I would have to take my walking stick. The thought of this petrified me. But it was either face the FAL with the stick or don't go at all. Since absenteeism is generally frowned upon at these affairs, I decided to bite the bullet and go.

I was standing in the kitchen chopping onions with my sunglasses on in a vain attempt to stop the fumes reaching my eyes. I had taken some pain killers so my legs weren't as painful but I was still a bit shakey. I had the stick leaning on the cupboard by my side.
-----"Who's walking stick is that?" she asked.
-----"Mine" I said, looking up briefly and smiling, mentally bracing myself for the inevitable.
-----"What do you need that for?" she asked, confused and a little disdainful.
-----"For the fibromyalgia." I replied, eyes on the onions, chopping, chopping, chopping.
-----"The what?" she asked, now more noticeably disdainful, as if I was trying to be difficult.
-----"The fibromyalgia." I said again, still chopping. There was a heavy silence so I glanced up at her and caught the look on face, a mix of incredulity, confusion and a dash of 'I know better than you do' (that last one is actually fairly standard). Seeing this odd look I added "the illness I have" and continued chopping.
-----"What do you need it for?" she asked. It wasn't a tone of concern she used, but rather one of disbelief.
-----"My legs get very sore and a little weak at times" I said, intently chopping, waiting for the advice on how I should be doing this or not doing that in order to get better from an illness she has never heard of until today.
-----I didn't have to wait long: "You should be using your legs then."
-----I felt like asking why she had to do that. Why does she have to make me feel like I've done something wrong? Can't she have more empathy or sympathy? Rather than grilling me wouldn't it be nicer for all involved if she said "Oh Daniel, I'm so sorry to hear that."
-----Instead of giving her a piece of my mind, something I've been wanting to do for years, I simply said "I do use them. All the time. The stick helps me." Then I continued chopping.

The icing on the cake came when she came into the kitchen about two minutes later and said "Can I ask you something?" (as if I had a choice in the matter) "Is it glary in here?" It took me a second to realise that she was talking about the fact that I had sunnies on inside. It took so long to realise because it was such a strange thing to say. I mean really, who cares if I have sunglasses on? I just told her it was because I was chopping onions, and yes it is quite glary in here now you mention it, and she proceeded to tell me how she always cuts onions under running water to stop it irritating the eyes.

I actually feel sorry for her. Life must be so exhausting when you worry about so many trivial things as the fact that your nephew has his sunglasses on in the kitchen, or that he walks with a walking stick. Let's face it, whether warranted or not, it's my problem after all.

I was discussing all this with my best friend Liz on MSN tonight...

Liz: I'd have given her a piece of my mind!
Me: she's very intimidating. every time this happens i fantasize abt it then remember i'd have to show my face there again and think better of it
Liz: yeah. Good point. but still
Me: but i reckon i could do it over the phone, so next time she calls or i call and she asks how i am and i say "i just got up" then watch out! pow!
Liz: make it easier - "i just got up and used my walking stick to get to the phone"
Me: while taking prescription pain killers and talking to my boyfriend
Liz: nice... ignoring the boyfriend part (cause otherwise this would have a complete other meaning)... answer the phone like you have something in your mouth and appologise because you just had to take your painkillers
Me: lol... HAHA
Liz: as I said - ignore the boyfirend part!