Ya I had a Father but he didn't raise me, my mom did. Friday my Mom moved out. 8 am I woke up to her crying. The movers were going to be here to get her stuff and her room and kitchen still need to be packed...her back was killing her...my sister wasn't home and my brother was refusing to get out of bed. So I got up and packed her room. I filled my van with the not so easy stuff to pack and took that over.
I picked my Mom up today so she can grab more of the stuff she had to leave behind and she was crying again. My sister, who always has Sundays off, was no where to be seen and my brother was sitting on his ass watching TV. The place didn't look like anyone unpacked anything. But I know my Mom did as much as her body would allow her. With her bad hips, back, shoulders, etc....she can't do much.
I'd be over there helping if I didn't have my own stuff to pack. I move in a week and I think as soon as I'm done I'll worry about her place more. I wish I didn't have to work tonight or I could pack more of my shit.
Why do I have so much stuff?
1 comment:
Meh!
Your sibbling needs some kick in the ass
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