shoot me. now would be good.

My parents were just here. I restrained myself, with enough effort that it was not pretty, to yelling and cursing. Relationships have a character, after a time. Gestures that would not, to a neutral observer, seem what they are to the people in the relationship.

Probably the nastiest thing you can do to anyone is to pretend to be reasonable while front and end loading your comments with insults. Tonight's beauts were:

When we called you an axe murderer and said that's what we thought you would be to the family therapist while we were arguing over custody, what we really meant was we were worried for you. You just took it wrong.

Your (oldest) daughter is depressed and we notice that when she comes back from your house, she seems agitated. 'Things' are there that weren't there before. (For the record, my parents are homophobic, religious wingnuts. That might have something to do with it. My father kept talking about the 'difference of atmosphere.')

They entered my house through the door without waiting to be asked in.

My father tried to enlist my partner and any time he was in the room, my father talked to him and pretended I did not exist. This is nothing new.

We apologize to you all the time. What, do you want us to commit suicide? Would that make you happy? (I pointed out that I often get variations of 'I'm sorry but you made me,' 'I'm sorry but none the stuff you remember happened,' 'I'm sorry but you took it the wrong way,' 'I'm sorry but here's an insult to remind you of your place, you slut.' But those don't count and neither of them remember anything like that.)

We came here to enlist you in a team (despite the fact that we've decided she needs to be on meds and refused to look at any of the studies you sent us showing the dangers and unanswered questions around giving a child going through puberty psychoactive drugs that have never been tested on girls going through puberty. Oh, and the therapist who's been seeing her thinks she's doomed and won't listen to any contrary opinions. More drugs! The therapy is working great!)

We don't understand why you might be angry; you're just holding on to things and we're trying so hard to get along. (I mean, we've been polite and everything. We even showed up smiling. As my father put it, isn't the right to be happy in the Constitution?)

Those of you who have the passive-aggressive parents will recognize these kinds of things. Perhaps the part that is most frustrating to me is the portion with the exasperated, 'but we've apologized. What else do you want?' I don't think I'll ever outgrow the desire to be loved, but everyone on earth will have to pardon me if I am reluctant to take a half-assed apology from a pair of people who have spent my entire life, thus far, insulting me (no one will ever love you, fatty; you're not pretty, you're interesting looking. sometimes a guy will like that, but make sure to let him feel superior and hide your brains), wrestling with custody, reminding me that, as my father put it in front of my ex-husband, his father, his step-mother, my kids and everyone who was within range of his voice, I was such a slut they needed to install a revolving door on my bedroom and who wants a kid to be raised by that?

And the sad thing? The really sad thing? If I ever thought they were actually sorry, I'd give it try number 12, at this point, and try to talk to them.

Maybe, as my dad reminded me, I just need to grow up.

As far as I'm concerned, not hitting them, breaking anything or drinking after they left means I'm ahead of the game.