The Closet (Part 1)

Yesterday was C-day, Closet day. Since we moved to the new house back in March, we have had my old closet sitting in the garage. My mom would like to have this closet, she had it before I got it, and I said she could have it, we wouldn't need it anymore. B. thought we ought to throw it out, so as to avoid the hassle of having to take it to my mom's place and set it up, and she has thus moaned and complained every time the subject pops up.
The last few days my sister has prodded me to find a date where we can finally move the damn closet to my mom's house, as it seems my mom complains to my sister about never getting it. This has literally given me a headache, as I knew bringing up the subject of finding a date with B. would mean trouble at home.

But yesterday I brought it up, quite calmly. We were sitting on the bed, she was watching Brazilian TV on her laptop, I was checking my e-mails and such.

Me: My love, I have to find a day to get the closet set up at my mom's place - do you have any preferences?
B.: Oh, god, that damn closet again...
Me: Don't start again, we already talked about this, I just need to find a date.
B.: Oh, pick any day you want, I don't care...
B.: But don't you dare do it on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday - those are exclusively mine.

She doesn't look at me. I sit quiet, annoyed for a while. I had wanted to do it on Friday, as I get off work early, and the forecast says it will rain. After a few minutes silence she turns to me.

B.: Why do you even bother with her, she doesn't care about you. What does you get in return?
Me: In return? She's my mom!
B.: But why should you do it, she doesn't deserve your help...
Me: You want me to tell her and my sister than I can't help them, because you don't think she deserves my help?
B.: She never did anything for you, she abandoned you as a child, left you at a boarding school,...
Me: Stop it! That's rubbish, don't start it...

I've heard it before, it's complete rubbish really, but I get angry just the same. I get off the bed, leave the room, pick up the first thing I can grab (my wallet) and throw it against the wall in rage, credit cards and coins flying all over the place, then run out in the garden and sit in a corner trying to control my anger. She comes out after me, hugs me and says she's sorry, she shouldn't take like that to me, I don't deserve her treating me like that, she didn't mean it, please come back in.  I go in with her, she picks up my wallet and the stuff that flew out of it, I lie down on the bed, she brings me chocolate to calm me down. We talk a little. She talks with her mom on Skype, I try to call my mom to set up a date.

Later we go over to my sisters place to pick up some stuff for the baby. Afterwards the rest of the evening is quiet, she starts installing Windows on a new laptop, I browse around and help her when needed.

On Wednesday we (or I) will go to my mom's place, and set up the closet, and hopefully it won't be an issue again. I hate those episodes, though...

The "Legoland" Incident

My sister had asked if I could drive her and her family to Billund airport when they were going on holiday. I agreed. When it turned out that they would go to the Legoland theme park the day before flying away on holiday, and stay the night at the airport hotel, we talked about maybe going all of us. However the weather turned out to be not very good, and B. was suffering from nausea and vomiting. Before I left home she was barely able to eat or drink, and vomited even the little water she was able to drink. She would cry and point to some tiny red specks in the vomit, saying, "Look, I am vomiting blood!" While giving the impression that she was on the verge of dying, she also said that this was what it was like every day after I went off to work. She went back to bed, and we agreed that I would only take my sister's family to Billund, and not go into the theme park with them.

The day before she had herself said that it would probably take about three hours, as it would take about one hour driving each way, and the rest would be the taken up by the neverending slowness and waiting she was always accusing my family of.

It did indeed take three hours from I left home till I was back again. Some time was spent waiting at my sister's house, some time I was waiting at a supermarket where they had to buy something, and quite a lot of time was spent waiting while they checked in at the airport hotel, dropping off the luggage before going to the theme park. I dropped them off at the theme park, and called B. to say that I was on my way home now, just to get a scolding for taking so long and not being on my way home sooner.

When I got home, she was very angry that I had taken so long, leaving her alone "to die", just for something as unimportant as taking my sister's family to the airport. The final straw to her was on hearing that I hadn't just dropped them off at the airport hotel, but had waited for them, and drived them to the theme park afterwards. I had abandonned her, left her to die miserably, I should have understood that in reality she never wanted me to leave, but rather to tell my sister that they could take themselves to the airport, that I had a wife who was ill, who needed my care. She wanted divorce, she wanted to kill herself, if it wasn't for the baby. She wanted to throw me out of the house, "go live with your mom", but as I refused she instead took her bed linen and her laptop, and moved to the guest room, where she stayed for a couple of hours. Only when she had to go to the bathroom to vomit again did she come out. When she returned from the bathroom she was crawling on all four, and complaining to the dog of how bad I treated her.