...it has been eerily peaceful at our house.
In April, we helped move Danae and Leigh's older sister and her partner down here, hoping she would be a positive influence.
Not so much. Turns out they're dedicated potheads with a knack for mooching and slovenly living.
We helped set them up in an apartment, and when they ran out of money (it was allegedly stolen) we lit them live on our sofa. We kicked them out six weeks later for helping Leigh sneak boys into our home late at night, and for helping her skip school three days in a row.
Sad but true fact--after they left, our bug problem disappeared. That nasty. Like throwing food wrappers in the toddler's toybox and under the bed nasty.
So that's the back story. Last weekend, we let Leigh spend 45 minutes with "the Gruesome Twosome" as we call them. She came out to the car stoned off her ass. The next day, I attempted to have a conversation with her. She refused, so I simply said that we don't do drugs in this family, and that if that's the life she wanted, she'd have to live it elsewhere, so she left, and moved in with the Gruesome Twosome.
Today, the therapist, Carla, called to tell me that the twosome is already frustrated with the amount of food Steph eats, and with her lack of hygeine, and her attitude, and how she talks to people-- all things we were working on at home, and all things the Twosome told us we should stop riding her case about.
HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!
Sorry. I had to get that out of my system.
So now they want money from us for groceries. NO.
And for rent. NO.
And want us to make Leigh bathe. Not my problem any more.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry. Can't help it.
All of this AFTER they called me the worst mom ever on Saturday, because I wouldn't drop everything and run to give them their mail.
I love it when people get exactly what they ask for.
I miss Leigh, but I love the calm. I've gotten so much done, I wonder how much more I could have gotten accomplished with the last ten years of my life if she hadn't been around.