Introducing: Old Bitch

I'm going to tell you about someone I'd like to call "Old Bitch." While her name may not give away how I know her, I hope it helps define other things about her. Like her age, and her species. Well, after my grandma died when I was five, my grandpa met Old Bitch. My grandpa was sick and Old Bitch took care of him when he had strokes and cancer, etc. I appreciate that. But that's the extent of her good qualities. (Maybe that shouldn't be plural).

No one in my family likes Old Bitch. They may say they do, but all that means is that they don't hate her so much that they want to rip out her pug-like face and bury it in the backyard.

Why do we hate Old Bitch? Because she is not a person. She thinks she's awesome and cool and that we like her, but she goes around telling people what to do (as if she has any authority) and what she does (as if she did anything). For example, she will probably spend about 30 minutes dwelling on the chicken that she ate yesterday for lunch. What was on it, Old Bitch? Was it dry? Oh - I'm sorry, I don't care.

Here is an example of the way she interacts with out family. For the wedding in Hawaii, my cousin walked over to the cooler to grab a beer and Old Bitch says "Okay, that's your last one."

... It was his first beer. Hmm...

Well grandpa married Old Bitch and when he died, she became the executor of the estate. Yea. Did I mention that she's bipolar? Right. So Old Bitch, who's in charge of all the things my grandpa left behind, is absolutely insane.

Do you think I'm kidding?

She wrote a letter to family friends in Texas telling them that their sympathy card was appreciated but unnecessary, as grandpa had been revived in the funeral home. Yea. She thinks he came back to life. Yea she also called his medical insurance company to tell them he needed his insurance back because he was revived. Hmm.

So if we were able to prove that Old Bitch was unable to handle the estate, my mom would be next in line as the executor. Sweet, right? Well...

My mom has this belief in special things. Intuition? Oh, she's got it for sure. She'll always just get this smile and say "I just know it's going to happen." When she gets home, she'll say "I knew there wouldn't be much traffic." Okay Mom. But what's always hilarious is when she's wrong. We needed to get gas in Hawaii and we took an exit off the highway without knowing where the gas station was. My mom says "I can sense that it's on the right. I just know it." So we turn right... and there isn't a gas station. Funny thing is, she later says "well I figured if you kept driving, there would EVENTUALLY be a gas station..." So you felt it? Yea... well I feel that the red light here is going to turn green. Y'know. Eventually.

So my mom met with Old Bitch on Saturday. I figured she was bringing an attorney or something. Ho, no. Mom comes home and I ask what happened and she says "It's going to be ok" and just nods.

Me: "Why? How do you know?"
Mom: "I can just tell. She's going to do the right thing."
Me: "The right thing? What's that?"
Mom: "Follow through with what the will says."
Me: "OK, but how do you KNOW? Did you ask her? Did you talk about it?"
Mom: "No. I just know."

Yea OK, Mrs. Gas Station. It wouldn't surprise me too much if next time she comes back saying "But I talked to Old Bitch and it turns out grandpa WAS revived!"