...So her carping about them has no more meaning than the chittering of the squirrel outside my window this morning. It's an annoying noise and nothing more. The squirrel is mad at my cat, but my cat couldn't care any less -- be the cat to your mother's squirrel.
Being a catowner, that makes sense. Sometimes, it's the human's own directions to the cat, but I digress.
I did manage to get my unhappiness out to her sometime during the past week, and she claims scrimping and saving was why she got grumpy. We did manage to track down a book on an out of town trip with dad (a yearly journey, in which we check out local history; really cool) and we got her a MacBook Pro refurbished, which seems to have smoothed her ruffled feathers.
Thing is, she keeps telling us to check her Amazon wishlist, but none of us know her Amazon account handle.
Even if we did, she has a bad habit of opening up every piece of mail or package if she thinks it remotely pertains to her (she once opened up a piece of my mail for a hospital survey, because it might have been a bill
, a fact I didn't know until two weeks later when I got a second one and she mentioned the first), so it makes us nervous ordering a gift online for her. And it's not like we don't try to find it in town, it's a matter of where are we going to find a KitchenAide in Ye Alde Small Townsville?
And dad does try, he was just a little depressed this Christmas, I think. We did settle on getting her several cookbooks and some sappy kitten and puppy cards for her combined Mother's Day/Birthday this year, which seemed to have gone over well.
I'll try not to let it get to heart.