It's too early...

DAY THREE (A.M):
Our tale begins around 8am...
It was getting to be around breakfast time so I asked the little boy if he was hungry. He said yes. I asked the little boy if he wanted to go out and get something to eat. He said no. I said, "But you're hungry, don't you want to eat?" "Yes," the little boy replies, "but can we eat here?" Sure, why not, I can make a bowl of cereal. He wants to watch his movie a little while longer so I head back to my room. A little time goes by and the Golden Arches pop up in my mind. So I go to the little boy and ask if he wants to go through the drive-thru. I told him he didn't even have to get dressed - I was going in my pajamas. So he gets up, gets on his shoes and we get into the car. By this time I am foaming at the mouth thinking about a Bacon, Egg and Cheese McGriddle with a hashbrown (or two) on the side. Mmmmmm. Then the unthinkable happens, "Is there anywhere to eat besides McDonald's?" WTF? It's Sunday thus Chik-Fil-A is closed leaving only Burger King. So the plans change and we are off to BK which in my opinion serves the utmost worst breakfast (2nd only to Pipo's). I am not happy and no longer hungry.

We come back to my abode and I call my grandma. Quicker than the speed of light the guilt trip starts. Pops and Debbie (the step-mother) are gonna take her dog (the 3rd J.D., J.D. III, JD3, J.D. cubed) to the groomers and they're taking grandma out for breakfast. Can't I ever get a break?

Pops just called and he seemed a'ight. I told him the little boy slept with his pacifier last night. He was as shocked as all of you readers. I am just happy the little boy slept in his own bed.

T-minus 5 days...

Summer. The season on fun in the sun. Beaches, picnics, barbecues and... my mother?!

In less than a week I will be hosting the mother, the brother and the grandmother. My mother is certifiable and has been institutionalized. My brother is the reincarnated spirit of some religious freak from the 1800s. My 'grandmother' - well that's the problem - grandmother. I cannot bring myself to call her grandma. She is, has been, and always will be Wilma.

Less than a week from today I will be reunited with my brother (lots of italics with these people). I was an only child for 18 years then mom goes off and spawns something new. The kid thinks he's going to stay here at my place the whole trip. He sleeps with my mom up in the big double wide in North Carolina. That shit ain't gonna fly at sissy's house. Junior will be in for a rude awakening.

And finally, one week from today is Father's Day; Monday is Grandma's (not Wilma's) Birthday. Pops is a little mad at me because I asked to postpone Father's Day and Grandma's Birthday being this other side of the family will be in town. I have two options - piss off mom or piss off dad. Vacation is not supposed to be stressful.