My Mom knows about my blog.
And so does my brother.
I love my family, I really do. I mean, I have been hiding this blog from them since I started. But, I do love them.
Why does that sound like I need some convincing?
We are just super duper hard on each other. And loving and supportive at the same time. It’s a combo that really messes me up. A combo that my therapist warned me about.
Okay, I don’t have a therapist. But, I thought that sounded really cool.
A few days ago, my Mom was reading my blog and I noticed that she quickly closed the page.
Me: Did you read it? It’s funny, eh! (See how I need to be constantly validated?)
My Mom: I don’t really want to know about your sex life.
Me: It’s not all about MY sex life. It’s my friends sex life.
My Mom: I never talked to my Mom about my sex life.
My Mom: And you use the “F” word too much.
Me: How can you use the “F” word too much?
And that was it.
Then my Dad, a retired teacher may I add, asked me how to spell “pizza”.
I come from good people.
Now, I want some fucking piza.
I mean pizza.