Mother, Psycho, Drives Daughter Psycho

There comes a time when we must call a spade a spade. For me, that time has come for the umpteenth time, and I can no longer ignore the inevitable – it is pecking at my sleeve incessantly and hounding me for attention.

My mother has lost it completely.

She calls me today, in the middle of an office emergency (an original document has been sent out by ordinary post instead of same-hour-delivery courier) to ask if she should be sending her maid over to help me clean up my house. Of course, please, yes, say I the filial daughter. And I will pay her to do it.

Your house is a junkyard, says my loving mother ("MLM"). She is making an oblique reference to my absolute refusal to move the piano upstairs like she told me to. I make 'hmm hmm' sounds – these are the best because they are non-contentious and she can think I'm agreeing but I'm not actually saying anything.

You better not employ your own maid, says MLM. She is making a not so oblique reference to my absolute refusal to employ her maid's relative. You are not capable, says MLM.

Hmm hmmm (slightly irritable). If I employ the maid you want me to employ, then I'm capable? (I thought, very very loudly, in my head)

How come your son is not eating the food that we cook? (MLM suddenly shifting ground to another argument like the skilled multi-tasking psycho that she can be) That's why we don't cook any food for your son anymore.

Hmm. Hmm.. (getting quite irritated now)

Are you still having the Christmas party at your house? Then you better not invite me, as your house is a junkyard, you are not capable and you are very stubborn!!!! (MLM really truly losing it)

What? What are you talking about?

Yes. Your house is a junkyard. You better not invite me to your Christmas party.

Hm. Ok. (what else can I say?)

Slam! She hangs up on me. WTF? Am so pissed off now that I can't really decide what to eat for lunch.