Pre-Whipped
California. You provide so much juice for me. I was working in California yet again and spent time with my boyfriend while I was out there. We often sat in front of his trailer eating Popsicles purchased from the Grocery Outlet, or GroshOut as we call it and generally lived a trailer worthy life. Sitting on fold out chairs, cooling ourselves off with a box fan, and watching Trailer Park Boys eating nearly melted chocolate chips. I have to give myself credit for being rather adapted to the trailer life, when a shower consists of standing in the previous days shower water waiting for Kyle to hook up to the sewage line. Or listening to piercing screams in the middle of the night as my boyfriend proudly calls out "oh that was a grey fox!" I have gotten use to the ship like feeling where if you are sitting and someone walks around, the whole trailer gentle shakes you.
At the end of the trip we went to his parents house to attend a wedding of a high school friend of Ky's. You already know how I feel about weddings. We arrived a few days early so we could relax. I commend Ky for being as happy go lucky as he is. Everyone has families and with those families a fair bit of drama, but theirs is unlike anything I have seen. I will caveat first and say I like them, they are perfectly nice and very accommodating, but they are so very different than my family so it is fun to observe.
One morning, Kyle's mom began decrying her hatred of Amazon. Amazon is quickly approaching monopoly level, and some states don't charge a sales tax on online purchases. This leads to consumers going to stores to try a product, then returning home and ordering it online cheaper and without taxes. Well his mom hates this. It's just not right she declares! Think of what it has done to California schools! I imagine this issue hits her close to home. She and her husband were both teachers. All those tax dollars forgone. It's wrong, its ruining the state, it needs to change, and you'd better believe she does not shop online for this very reason. She supports those brick and mortar stores thank you very much! She also sold something leafy for many years not paying taxes on those leafy earnings. I don't know if that hypocrisy crosses her mind while she pounds on her soap box, but I know those leaves were rather lucrative.
Later at dinner I declare that her other son is the favorite child. He's an adult who lives at home and that alone is shocking to me. If guilt trips could be measured in miles I could have traveled to the sun and back many times over anytime my mom feels I am not achieving my potential. One time between jobs my mom began sending me job applications to Chipotle with Spanish as a recommendation. I took French and Latin with a Finance degree from a very good business school. I'm not saying I am above an hourly job, but it was more her way of telling me that those job applications to sign spinner and tortilla steamer would continue until I was out of her face and doing something respectable. Respectable is a key word. The idea of being anything you wanted wasn't really a thing in my household. You can do whatever you want in your free time. I was coached to not major in something that was hard to get hired in after school. And I promise from the bottom of my heart I do not resent this advice. I commend it entirely. If I had followed my gut I'd be a whale tamer who doesn't want to touch a fish, get my makeup washed off, or swim with sea creatures. Thank you parents. But they nag. My dad, being savvy nags my mom to nag us, like a mob boss he doesn't want to sully his calm image.
Anyways I declare Jordan the favorite. He lives at home, plays video games for several hours per day, invites all his friends to live in the house with him (and his parents), and doesn't have to keep his room clean. Aside from Jordan there were three additional room tenants, all Jordan's friends, not paying rent within Chateau Smitt. I can't actually fathom what my parents would do. It would never happen in the first place, but whether I would be put on a 54 40 hold or seeing a therapist for failure to launch I'm not real sure. And forget about my friends living there too, it's not that my parents wouldn't help those in need, they would, but there would be stipulations and hoarding the TV for videos games, girlfriends/boyfriends sleeping on sofas for conjugal visits, fridge raids, smoking or drinking of any kind, and smelly rooms would not at all be permitted. Jordan states he is not at all the favorite, it just seems that way when Ky and I are there because the parents put on nice dinners and clean the house and kick Jordan out of the bedroom when we come. At this point I see their mom roll her eyes and once Jordan can't hear she rants that he treats this house like a hotel and doesn't know how good he's got it. I fully agree. It's a great stress free life in the third most expensive city in the world. He's got a great thing going, and parents that are just too nice or gave up.
I begin to think maybe I am wrong. Maybe Ky is equally loved by his mom. Until dinner. We are having BBQ pizza. Jill chops up olives to put on the pizza. The pizzas go out onto the grill, but the olives are left. Ky quickly says "mom you forgot the olives!" Quick she says, go put them on before the cheese has begun to melt. Jordan quickly declares "I fucking olives, get them the fuck off." Ky looks to his mom she begins to yell "Kyle what are you thinking? I stood right here and said don't put the olives on. Why would you do that" Jordan echoes "yea what the hell. I hate olives. Go get them off now." Jill doubles back still yelling "God Kyle why would you do that you know your brother hates olives." The two continue to yell at Kyle who honestly has transformed into a golden retriever. He is being yelled at but looks oblivious as he runs outside, tale wagging with tongs to retrieve the olives. I sit silently but dumbfounded. Jill said to put the olives on, I heard her, I watched her, I watched the whole ordeal. Yet my boyfriend was dumb as a brick and just assumed he had messed up. I immediately see this as a relationship benefit. If I tell him anything sternly enough he will believe he has done wrong. Poor sweet Kyle, you can pre-whipped.
At the end of the trip we went to his parents house to attend a wedding of a high school friend of Ky's. You already know how I feel about weddings. We arrived a few days early so we could relax. I commend Ky for being as happy go lucky as he is. Everyone has families and with those families a fair bit of drama, but theirs is unlike anything I have seen. I will caveat first and say I like them, they are perfectly nice and very accommodating, but they are so very different than my family so it is fun to observe.
One morning, Kyle's mom began decrying her hatred of Amazon. Amazon is quickly approaching monopoly level, and some states don't charge a sales tax on online purchases. This leads to consumers going to stores to try a product, then returning home and ordering it online cheaper and without taxes. Well his mom hates this. It's just not right she declares! Think of what it has done to California schools! I imagine this issue hits her close to home. She and her husband were both teachers. All those tax dollars forgone. It's wrong, its ruining the state, it needs to change, and you'd better believe she does not shop online for this very reason. She supports those brick and mortar stores thank you very much! She also sold something leafy for many years not paying taxes on those leafy earnings. I don't know if that hypocrisy crosses her mind while she pounds on her soap box, but I know those leaves were rather lucrative.
Later at dinner I declare that her other son is the favorite child. He's an adult who lives at home and that alone is shocking to me. If guilt trips could be measured in miles I could have traveled to the sun and back many times over anytime my mom feels I am not achieving my potential. One time between jobs my mom began sending me job applications to Chipotle with Spanish as a recommendation. I took French and Latin with a Finance degree from a very good business school. I'm not saying I am above an hourly job, but it was more her way of telling me that those job applications to sign spinner and tortilla steamer would continue until I was out of her face and doing something respectable. Respectable is a key word. The idea of being anything you wanted wasn't really a thing in my household. You can do whatever you want in your free time. I was coached to not major in something that was hard to get hired in after school. And I promise from the bottom of my heart I do not resent this advice. I commend it entirely. If I had followed my gut I'd be a whale tamer who doesn't want to touch a fish, get my makeup washed off, or swim with sea creatures. Thank you parents. But they nag. My dad, being savvy nags my mom to nag us, like a mob boss he doesn't want to sully his calm image.
Anyways I declare Jordan the favorite. He lives at home, plays video games for several hours per day, invites all his friends to live in the house with him (and his parents), and doesn't have to keep his room clean. Aside from Jordan there were three additional room tenants, all Jordan's friends, not paying rent within Chateau Smitt. I can't actually fathom what my parents would do. It would never happen in the first place, but whether I would be put on a 54 40 hold or seeing a therapist for failure to launch I'm not real sure. And forget about my friends living there too, it's not that my parents wouldn't help those in need, they would, but there would be stipulations and hoarding the TV for videos games, girlfriends/boyfriends sleeping on sofas for conjugal visits, fridge raids, smoking or drinking of any kind, and smelly rooms would not at all be permitted. Jordan states he is not at all the favorite, it just seems that way when Ky and I are there because the parents put on nice dinners and clean the house and kick Jordan out of the bedroom when we come. At this point I see their mom roll her eyes and once Jordan can't hear she rants that he treats this house like a hotel and doesn't know how good he's got it. I fully agree. It's a great stress free life in the third most expensive city in the world. He's got a great thing going, and parents that are just too nice or gave up.
I begin to think maybe I am wrong. Maybe Ky is equally loved by his mom. Until dinner. We are having BBQ pizza. Jill chops up olives to put on the pizza. The pizzas go out onto the grill, but the olives are left. Ky quickly says "mom you forgot the olives!" Quick she says, go put them on before the cheese has begun to melt. Jordan quickly declares "I fucking olives, get them the fuck off." Ky looks to his mom she begins to yell "Kyle what are you thinking? I stood right here and said don't put the olives on. Why would you do that" Jordan echoes "yea what the hell. I hate olives. Go get them off now." Jill doubles back still yelling "God Kyle why would you do that you know your brother hates olives." The two continue to yell at Kyle who honestly has transformed into a golden retriever. He is being yelled at but looks oblivious as he runs outside, tale wagging with tongs to retrieve the olives. I sit silently but dumbfounded. Jill said to put the olives on, I heard her, I watched her, I watched the whole ordeal. Yet my boyfriend was dumb as a brick and just assumed he had messed up. I immediately see this as a relationship benefit. If I tell him anything sternly enough he will believe he has done wrong. Poor sweet Kyle, you can pre-whipped.
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