How about a nice warm cup of shut the hell up?
A Partial List of Unreasonable Grudges I Have Held for a Minimum of Twenty-Five Years
--The "bunny-fur coat" my cousin L. got from my grandmother E. This is one of the really stupid ones -- L., four years older than me, was/is a child of the Unfavored Daughter of my grandparents (whereas my siblings and I were from the Most Favored Son), and lived in another state, so only visited once a year at most. When I was about 9 and she 13, my grandmother took her shopping -- like she did us about every damn week -- and bought her a fur jacket. Rabbit fur. Which my cousin wore around ALL GODDAMN WEEK, hugging herself and prattling on about it. I should let it go because: A) who cares, B) I already had one, bought by the very same grandmother, C) those cousins never got anything, because of favoritism and also they lived across the country as opposed to half a mile away, so who is so small as to begrudge a goddamn jacket? I haven't let it go because: SHUT UP ABOUT THE BUNNY-FUR JACKET, L! And go home already! You guys are hogging my grandparents! Length of grudge to date: 29 years.
--The 4th/5th grade music teacher who always told us to "keep it down to a dull thud" during free play. It's dull ROAR you're looking for, dumbass. Dull ROAR. "Dull thud" is a thing, but it isn't THIS thing. Length of grudge to date: 27 years.
--My cousin A., who put the fucking giant rubber spider in his family's swimming pool and wouldn't take it out, so I had to get out of the pool on one of the hottest days all goddamn summer and not go back in. He and I are friends now, and I adore him, but William H. SHATNER, I am never ever going to get over the way that thing undulated in the water. Eeeeeeeeeeeeegh! Length of grudge to date: 29 years.
--My friend C.'s parents trying to make me call them "sir" and "ma'am" during the entirety of this extremely hot, buggy, terrible week-long trip to some awful lake or other in the height of summer when I was about eight. We didn't do "sir" and "ma'am" in my family, it was really embarrassing and stupid and felt like they were the principal of the school all the time, and it made a rough (allegedly fun) week even worse. Length of grudge to date: 30 years.
--My cousin S. (sibling of cousin A. and four years older than me) and her bitch friend S.S. ditching me that time I was over there getting babysat by S.'s older sister. I blame S.S. for this; she was the one who came up with the "there are Oreos in the kitchen -- why doncha go get some for all three of us?" ruse. When I came back, after a fruitless search for Oreos, they were gone. Length of grudge to date: 30 years.
--That bitch who bit my little sister at daycare at Mrs. Book's house. She friended me on Facebook a few months ago. I still might bite her back someday. She should watch out. Length of grudge to date: 31 years.
--The "bunny-fur coat" my cousin L. got from my grandmother E. This is one of the really stupid ones -- L., four years older than me, was/is a child of the Unfavored Daughter of my grandparents (whereas my siblings and I were from the Most Favored Son), and lived in another state, so only visited once a year at most. When I was about 9 and she 13, my grandmother took her shopping -- like she did us about every damn week -- and bought her a fur jacket. Rabbit fur. Which my cousin wore around ALL GODDAMN WEEK, hugging herself and prattling on about it. I should let it go because: A) who cares, B) I already had one, bought by the very same grandmother, C) those cousins never got anything, because of favoritism and also they lived across the country as opposed to half a mile away, so who is so small as to begrudge a goddamn jacket? I haven't let it go because: SHUT UP ABOUT THE BUNNY-FUR JACKET, L! And go home already! You guys are hogging my grandparents! Length of grudge to date: 29 years.
--The 4th/5th grade music teacher who always told us to "keep it down to a dull thud" during free play. It's dull ROAR you're looking for, dumbass. Dull ROAR. "Dull thud" is a thing, but it isn't THIS thing. Length of grudge to date: 27 years.
--My cousin A., who put the fucking giant rubber spider in his family's swimming pool and wouldn't take it out, so I had to get out of the pool on one of the hottest days all goddamn summer and not go back in. He and I are friends now, and I adore him, but William H. SHATNER, I am never ever going to get over the way that thing undulated in the water. Eeeeeeeeeeeeegh! Length of grudge to date: 29 years.
--My friend C.'s parents trying to make me call them "sir" and "ma'am" during the entirety of this extremely hot, buggy, terrible week-long trip to some awful lake or other in the height of summer when I was about eight. We didn't do "sir" and "ma'am" in my family, it was really embarrassing and stupid and felt like they were the principal of the school all the time, and it made a rough (allegedly fun) week even worse. Length of grudge to date: 30 years.
--My cousin S. (sibling of cousin A. and four years older than me) and her bitch friend S.S. ditching me that time I was over there getting babysat by S.'s older sister. I blame S.S. for this; she was the one who came up with the "there are Oreos in the kitchen -- why doncha go get some for all three of us?" ruse. When I came back, after a fruitless search for Oreos, they were gone. Length of grudge to date: 30 years.
--That bitch who bit my little sister at daycare at Mrs. Book's house. She friended me on Facebook a few months ago. I still might bite her back someday. She should watch out. Length of grudge to date: 31 years.
Labels: demoralizing confessions, first-world problems, I really am sort of an asshole sometimes, indefensible positions, surprises in the attic, tap-dancing on my last fucking nerve
posted by Gleemonex at 11:25 AM
2 Comments:
Bunny fur jackets sound kind of creepy, in a Silence of the Rabbits kind of way. And anyone who used Oreos as a distraction to ditch you *deserves* a 30-year grudge. They just do.
I'm relieved to know that someone else in the world holds grudges as long as I do. If it's worth getting pissed off, it's worth staying pissed off, I always say.
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