THURSDAY, JULY 29, 2010

This morning (as agreed by all parties) the tree guys came and started to work on the palms outside. We had finished breakfast and Grandpa had gone to his room to watch T.V. per usual. I came in to let him know that they were out there. "Who's out there?" "The guys you asked to come back today to do the trees." So he went outside to negotiate a price with absolutely no idea he had already made an agreement. The tree guys, half way through the project look at me. I try to explain it to him and tell the guys to finish the trees. Carol makes it very clear she doesn't want to be involved in it, but sure enough Grandpa walks into the kitchen and opens with, "Carol, do you know anything about these guys in the yard. They want $100. I don't know if I wanna pay it." Carol looks at me, mumbles something and sneaks off to her room. I explained that he had made a deal with them yesterday to come back this morning and that he would pay them that much. He thinks this is bullshit. He isn't sure if he has enough money and he goes to ask Carol whether she thinks they should pay that much. I follow them to their room and quietly ask if he needs some extra cash to cover it. He replies with a sharp, "Shut Up." Carol runs away to the far back yard to hide. I keep calm and set $40 next to him. Then we sit for around 20 minutes in the kitchen, him nervously counting the 5 twenty dollar bills and murmuring how it's bullshit and how he was half asleep when it was all thrust upon him. Then I get a phone call from the people I interviewed with on Monday asking if I can come in today to do a follow up. Maybe in an hour? No. 2 hours? I guess.
When I come out of my room and into the front yard, Grandpa and the lawn guy are shouting at each other. The guy sees me and instantly starts talking to me. "He's telling us to pick up all this stuff in the yard that isn't even our stuff. That bunch of trash over there isn't even our stuff, ya see? If he asked us nicely we would, but it's not part of the deal and he's just demanding it." Ask Nicely, huh? My Grandpa?
So I ask nicely and even plead with them as Grandpa continues to shout out orders until every branch in the entire yard is picked up and I've handed off the money from Grandpa to the guy. "Alright, Grandpa. Let's go in and cool down." "Did you give them extra money." "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you can catch more flies with honey?"
I was distant towards Grandpa as I set out lunch (although not nearly as distant as Carol who was as elusive as their cat, who I still haven't seen). Grandpa picked up on this and asked me if I was upset over something. I tried to explain that a Grandfather shouldn't yell at his Granddaughter to shut up when she was simply offering to help. I explained that I didn't mind lending him money because I understood he was stressed, but he doesn't need to stress everyone else out or ever talk to me that way. He looks like I'm an alien and asks how much he owes me. I say $40, but that I was more concerned with the respect issue. He reaches into his pocket and gives me $40. Why do I even bother?
Twenty minutes before I'm supposed to leave for my interview, Grandpa asks me if I can drive him to the bank to get more money. I'm so shocked that he asked, I don't even mind that I have to do my hair in the car. As for Carol, when I bring out her medicine she brings it back into her room and says she doesn't need help today (I check later and her pills are gone, but I can't tell with her shirt if she put on her patch so we will see. What does it even do?).
I get back from my interview and am in such high spirits from it, I can't even be upset with Grandpa. We sit in the kitchen, me on my computer, him telling me what's in the paper. After dinner he steps on the scale to see his weight. I look down at it and see he weighs 140 lbs. This is dangerously close to my weight so I step on it too. I'm 130 and I'm suddenly overcome with the need to feed him some more Hamburger Helper. "I can't believe we are that close in weight!" I say. He replies, "Why, look at your thighs and then look at mine." He points at my legs and then lifts up his shorts in emphasis. Suddenly I hate him again.

To sum up--

Daily sanity level of house: 4 (out of 10)

Erika's daily activity away from house: Follow up interview

Daily lesson: Squats for me. Hamburger Helper for him.