(to say I am excited that this post has a working video is an UNDERSTATEMENT, so I hope you check it out. It is Mini practicing fiddle for Ireland and it is 20 seconds long - stop it sooner if y ou want, but I am betting that you will want more)
The all-in family White Sox game that Marie apparently agreed to gift Dad for Dad's day would have been a no-brainer back in the day. Back in the day, as in: when I still cared. When I still jumped thru hoops. When I still thought spending time with my family was a first rate experience. Or when I thought it was an opportunity to try to fit in, to try to be accepted, to try to NOT be overlooked.
Yeah. The glory of getting old - I no longer anticipate any of those things happening in my lifetime.
Example 1: My sisters went to an Ed Sheern concert together - just the two of them - in the fall to celebrate Marie’s 50th birthday. I only became aware of their attendance at the concert when they posted it on Facebook. I guess my invite was lost in the mail. Or, they just failed to ask me. To clarify, I have zero interest in seeing Ed Sheehan in concert. Not the point.
Example 2: Marie lives in Milwaukee and Coach was taking a class up there in June, so Mini tagged along to hang with a favorite cousin. (Favorite cousin aka ‘Cool’ is sisters with a cousin who drops the name of her prestigious college multiple times in every sentence spoken. Literally. It nauseates Mini.) Mini is, on the other hand, crazy about Cool. When Mini returned from Milwaukee she told me that she witnessed Aunt Marie spend close to a thousand dollars on Aunt Ann’s birthday gift when they visited an art fair. That puts the little lazy $50 gift-card birthday exchange that my sisters and I gift one another in perspective, don’t ya think?
Example 3: Mom has call waiting. She absolutely cannot continue a conversation with me no matter how important, if a preferred sibling calls while we are on the phone. There is no ‘let me click over and tell them I will call right back.’ Ouch.
Example 4: Pat asked Mini to meet him at my folks house, which is near our house. He wanted to visit Mom and Dad before leaving town and he wanted to review tunes that Mini needs to be proficient in for the upcoming championship competition in Ireland. I drove Mini there and grabbed my camera so that I could share a few of our vacation photos. Mini went off to play tunes with her cousin. Pat and I sat on the couch and I showed Mom some pictures on my camera. I got the gnawing feeling that Pat was annoyed that I was infringing on his scheduled audience with my folks.
I realized a few years ago that Pat had a regular Sunday afternoon meetup at my parents' house, which has probably subsided as his kids schedules became busier. His leprechaun wife stayed home when he drove to see the parental unit. She got some alone time (as they say in Ireland, 'Fine for some!), and he brought his four kids over to visit with their grandparents. Mom made everyone lunch and the kids played for a few hours. Sound cozy? My family was never offered this kind of deal. Ever. Not even once. Nevermind weekly.
Knowing this setup, I felt uncomfortable last week when I dropped in - like I was taking up what I am sure they all assumed would be uninterrupted time with son-who-walks-on-water. After a bit, I left Mini there to practice and I went home. Pat dropped Mini at home later and then began badgering her to record her tunes and text them to him.
So, I think that sufficiently sums up why I could care less about the Sox game. On top of weird sibling relationships and enough parental ass-kissing to make me puke, it will be hot and I no longer care about baseball. Aug 10th happens to be our 23rd anniversary, but Coach will be out of town. I could do something fun, like meet up with a friend and enjoy a girl's night. (Kari - are you paying attention here?) ANYTHING BUT A SOX GAME WITH THESE PEOPLE.
I polled the children. The two youngest expressed an interest. Reg: 'only if certain cousin is going.' I can probably get them a ride with my folks or Uncle Mike (father of the certain cousin). I don't even think I will fudge an excuse about why I am not attending. 'I don't want to.' The end.