She came over to my house on Sunday, and it would have been wise to enjoy an Ativan, but I didn't, and instead I listened to her tell me things like, oh, I shouldn't paint the floor of my patio red, I should paint it blue. And that she doesn't like my Our Ladies of Guadalupe (which she calls The Blessed Mother.)
This entire time, I'm trying to explain to my mother how I will not be putting corn out to feed squirrels (I mean, seriously!), and then my dear old auntie starts to fuss at me about something I put on Facebook.
Namely, that I look like Eleanor Roosevelt.
Which is true, both that I said that once, forever ago, and, that I do. She agreed that I look like Eleanor, she just thought it was wrong of me to say so on Facebook.
Now come on.
There are lots of things I don't put on Facebook. My drinks of choice, how my ex-husband doesn't pay child support, when I would rather be home than at work*.
Eleanor? THAT is what she is going to bitch about??
Imagine what she would say if I put anything down about my Aunt.
*pretty much always.
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