Entry 27: Quantity Time

Whoever came up with the phrase 'quality time' needs a serious reality check on today's families.

I was leaving school Friday, and starting my spring break. The fact that I'd be trapped in the house with Miriam's slobbering self all day didn't bother me, because the week would be ending with Wrestlemania! Tickets had been sold out for months, but I knew I'd find a way to be there…

"What do you mean you hate wrestling? You and I are going Phoebe! We have got to get tickets to Slam Jam V!"

"But Helga!"

"I don't care if you have to stand in line all day! Just call me when you get 'em."

Yeah, I was a little harsh. I guess it's just the fact that I have such a reliable friend that makes it hard to realizing I may be taking advantage of her at times. She's not the type to stand up for herself like me.

After fantasizing about sitting in the crowd, watching my favorite athletes pound one another into dust, I went downstairs for dinner.

I can't name three things Bob and I have in common, except being ready to dig in at dinner. Our anxious appetites don't exactly pleasure Miriam. I don't know what the heck she's complaining about? We don't exactly approve of the way she claims the counter with her smoothie addiction. Pttss...pathetic!

Pretending to be mother of the year by starting a conversation, she asks how school had been going for me. What did they care? Especially Bob, when he can never remember my name.

"As a matter of fact, I flunked a math test today."

Once again proving his lack of concern for my life and everything in it, Bob's response was…

"That's good, glad to hear it."

I didn't let his usual uninterest in my life get to me. I simply thought out loud to myself I had the next week off to enjoy. While it relieved my mind, it lit some crazy spark inside of Miriam's. One that didn't exactly got out when Bob revealed he'd be taking the next week off.

All she had to do was spend the week past out at random areas around the house after enjoying her special drinks to avoid the mishap. What was her plan of action?

"I'm going away for the week to visit my mother. She is not well."

"AND YOU'RE GONNA TAKE CARE OF HER?!"

Not that I get along with either of my parents, but seeing her walk out the door meant there would be no one to deal with Bob's rantings. I didn't want to have to listen to him (let alone deal with him).

Did she listen to our sorry please to stay behind? Pttss...do my parents EVER listen to me?

Not even two minutes after she bailed on us, I decided I was leaving the house. I can't even look at Bob without having to worry about hearing about his precious beeper empire.

Oddly enough, the moment I walked out, he showed a speck of concern.

"Where are you going? When will you be back? Be careful crossing streets!"

His concern ALMOST had me fooled. Sure enough, two days had gone by and neither of us had gotten a decent meal in. I'm nine years old for crying out loud and he actually expected me to do the cooking and shopping?

The beeper king then decided what better way to share some 'quantity time' together, than by grocery shopping...only for things he would consider eating.

I mean, the guy tried to kill me with strawberries! Who doesn't know what their kids can and can't have for crying out loud?

After that wonderful trip, I tried talking some sense into Miriam.

"This is really not working out Miriam! When are you coming home?"

Of course she doesn't think it could be that bad. What does she know? She's the one who ran away!

"Well for one thing dad's already tried to kill me with strawberries. What kind of a moron is he?"

Bob then walks into the kitchen trying to defend himself by calling me high strung and insisting we'd spend all day together. Fat chance I'd agee the that!

Well I didn't agree to, I was forced to. The arrogant jerk decides to interrupt my baseball practice by dragging me to watch him get his haircut, shop for some fancy belts, and assume I'd enjoy a visit the hardware store.

I'm a nine year old girl! What made him think I would care about ANY of that? Just because I had the guts to point it out to him, he had the nerve to accuse me of over-reacting. His impressive solution to it was taking me to ride some lame pony at the park.

As if things couldn't get any worse….ARNOLD SAW ME!

Can you imagine the humiliation I felt when the boy of my dreams saw me participating in an activity meant for a five year old?!

So what happens? I fall into the mud, losing whatever shred of dignity I still possessed.

At least it was enough to send Bob the message that I really did have no desire to spend time with him whatsoever. If he wasn't willing to take an interest in my life, why should I have been willing to open up to him? He had never done anything to imply he cared about what made me happy. Why should I have cared to spend what little time I had left of my break with him?

After slamming the door in his face, I called to get an update on how Pheebs did with the tickets.

"I couldn't get the tickets."

"AHHHHH! What a rotten week! First Miriam bails on me 'cause she can't take it. Then my lame dad forces me to spend the day with him so that he can pretend we're bonding!"

"I'm terribly sorry Helga!"

"And now...I can't even get tickets to the one thing I've been dying to see!"

There's nothing worse than finding it was pointless to get your hopes up about something. It just makes you feel like a loser for ever believing there was a chance things would work out the way you wanted them to.

I got into bed that night, anxious for the weekend to be over and done with. School hadn't seemed like a bad idea for quite a few days. Hearing I wouldn't be going to Wrestlemania was the icing on the cake. The only good thing I had to look forward to the rest of my break was sleeping in...or so I thought.

I felt myself being vigorously nudged early the next morning, where I awoke to see Bob standing with a guilty look on his face.

"I've been thinking about the last few days and I want to make it up to you. What do you say? Give Big Bob one more chance?"

"Oh brother."

"Come on Helga, please?"

"Oh alright. One more chance."

I could just picture what he had in store for us. Tickets to a movie meant for a three year old.

Well, he had tickets…

"I got the tickets you wanted Helga."

"You got tickets to…"

No, not to the event of the season. More like the nightmare before Christmas.

He and I pulled up at what appeared to be Wrestlemania, but was right next to some pathetic musical about Rats. That's the last time I sleep with a magazine clipping.

I couldn't tell him how off base he was after trying to be nice...as disappointed as I was. He and I both sat there watching the stupidest show I had ever seen in my life! The only good thing that came out of it was finding out he hated it as much as I did. I suppose that was enough to make up for the crappy week.

The purpose (Miriam's purpose) was for us to find something we have in common. We were laughing about it the whole way home.