When reminded that we are bringing them back from on Sunday because this was supposed to be our weekend anyway (according to the every-other-weekend policy) and because our six weeks of summer have always begun and ended on Sundays, she would not listen. Because that's just what she does. Not listen. And not get anything through her head.
No, she is not mentally challenged in the clinical sense. Yes, she is unintelligent, but moreover she is stubborn and hateful and enjoys making J's life hell, and she does not care that she makes the kids' lives hell in the process.
Then, when J and the boys stood their ground and assured her that they would be home Sunday as usual, she informed them that she is going to call the police unless he brings them home right away. I kid you not, the police. Just like she called the sheriff yesterday morning because the boys didn't call her on her new number that she never gave them.
So the boys reiterated that we live four hours away from her and only have our motorcycle + sidecar at the moment (our main vehicle is currently awaiting an organ transplant). No matter. She still insisted that they drive all the way down there in the motorcycle. Yes. In the open-air hundred degree heat and afternoon thunderstorms. With no room for all the boys' possessions and their dog that they brought along.
This was J's reply:
Just kidding, unfortunately. His actual reply was, "the boys will be there no later than six p.m. on SUNDAY. *click*"
Now we wait to see if the cops show up between now and then.
Never a dull moment, I guess.
.bmp)
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