Pray for Me, I'm an Idiot
If confession is good for the soul, then I would like to confess that I am on the verge of going ballistic on someone over something very silly.
Soup. We're arguing about soup. This is nothing new. We once argued about hors d'ouvres, specifically the relative merits of fruit and vegetable trays vs. meatballs and scallops wrapped in bacon. This is so ridiculous I can't even believe I'm typing it out loud. Countries are at war, people are missing in the Philippines, women and children are dying of AIDs and we're arguing about soup.
I've reached a new low.
But it's not about food, it's a battle of wills. It's a mother and daughter battling to take care of each other. Yet somehow we always end up doing more harm than good in the process. It's complicated and I don't understand why it is always this way with us. I need to go back and take my own advice about not sowing strife. I try, I really do. But when it comes to dealing with Mum it seems I always fail miserably. We have a habit of keeping each other on our knees.
I need that courage to change what I can, whatever it is I need to accept what I can't, and the wisdom to know when to just shut the heck up!
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