Last Friday, my younger sister and her friend came to visit me and they overnighted in my house. I was very happy that they came to visit me. The pleasure of their companionship is something that I longed and needed, especially in this difficult time where I’m still struggling to cope with my new environment and drastic changes.
When I was younger, I never did see eye to eye with my sister. Apparently, I was a jealous monster who wanted my parents to myself and therefore did not have any common ground with her. But I came to realize that we both grew up and became more mature and wiser, and come to care about each other unconditionally.
Anyway, let’s cut the story short. My sister came to visit with her friend, and I tried my best to be a good hostess. I cooked dinner for them and bought supper, and I bet they’re stuffed.
I realized that it takes so little to make me happy and blush to the root of my hair. I did not expect them to thank me or to help me out with the househole chores, but they did. My sister complimented me, saying that I’m a good cook, and the dishes are delicious and thanked me over and over again for the troubles that I put myself through to make them feel comfortable and welcomed in my home.
Same goes with her friend. They both thanked me, complimented me profusely, and I felt that even if they’re lying and just trying to be polite about me being a good cook and the dishes that I prepared actually tasted like ash, I don’t give a damn, because their words boosts my confidence and make me feel appreciated. These two feelings, happened to be something that is quite rare for me, and I haven’t felt it for a very long time.
My sister and her friend not only fed my ego last Friday, but they also offered to help me with my mundane chores. Though I appreciate their offer, I did not accept their help, because just by asking me if I needed help, is more than enough for me to feel happy to do things for them.
My sister also told me when we’re alone that even though I am not perfect, I am strong, and did great job with many things. She said, I did great job in raising my family and taking care of them. Those words almost undone me and made me cry out of happiness. I don’t care if she’s lying about it too. It made me feel good. She made me feel that it is okay to be human. To make mistakes, to feel tired and not be perfect. She made me feel loved and cared, even though she did not do much.
Both of them are two people that I will always welcome in my home. At least, these two are not like any some other ‘guests’ that came to my house. While I welcome them into my house with open arms, I do not appreciate that they criticize on how I run my family and on whether I clean up the house til squeaky clean, or whether I do my bloody laundry every goddamn day or not.
Who gave them the bloody rights to critisize on what me and my husband should and should not do or how we decided to run the family? Just because they are older, does that means it makes them always right and know better than us? Who gave them bloody rights to tell us what to do?
I don’t care if they are older than me or not, and we as younger people are suppose to give them face and respect them and say yes to whatever they say like some mentally retarded dog.
It is simply rude to go into people’s house and critisize people, and tell people’s children or the parent’s what they should and should not do with their child. IT IS SIMPLY RUDE. look up in the dictionary if you don’t understand what rude meant.
I am sure you don’t know what it meant, because only uncivillized people stepped into people’s house, look around and then tell them to follow your advice or rather, orders.
I’m telling you, you have no manners…and even if you talked in a language that you thought I could not understand to my other half. You think you’re bloody brilliant? You are wrong. I understood, even though I pretended stupid and not understand a word. I resent everything you told us, and everything you said.
One should also not concern themselves about other’s parenting skills when they themselves are not perfect either. I call that the pot calling the kettle black. I saw flaws in other people’s parenting skills too when I go to people’s house. Their kids are rude and messy too.
And their house would make a French maid runs back to France in fright. But I don’t go around telling them what to do. I don’t tell them to clean up, or tell their children to behave, even though they are my kin or immediate relative.
I held my tongue. Because to me, whatever people want to do in their house, and how they decided to raise their brats, is none of my concern. Even if I care for their well being, their hygiene or even their academic achievements, I don’t see any harm in allowing people to be imperfect and learn not to make mistakes on their own.
Apart from that, I was raised by my family to mind my manners when I go to other people’s house, and it does not matter if they are older or younger than me. It is just too bad that others do not have half of my upbringing to at least mind their own business or look into their own faults first before condemning others.
Cleffairy: I hope I can send all chauvinistic pigs to the gallows…then I’ll be at peace with myself.