who left the baby in the recliner?

it never ceases to amaze me how ungrateful and inconsiderate my father can be.

the way he's reacted to having tiles installed in my parents' home, and him moving in with YB, is just the latest, most frustrating example.

dad didn't want tiles installed. he didn't think there was anything wrong with the stained carpet in the hallway or the discoloured vinyl tiles in the kitchen or the beyond-ugly plastic baseboards (stained and dirty thanks to him) in the main-floor washroom. it was all totally fine as far as he was concerned, and he huffed and puffed and harumphed and complained anytime the subject of tiling came up.

in fact, he behaves that way anytime anything needs fixing in the house. and i do mean needs fixing. it's not like mom's frivolously undertaking one home-reno project after another just for kicks.

a few years ago, the bricks on one wall of the outside of their house were literally crumbling apart, and dad bitched and moaned and put up a stink when it was time to get them replaced. the same thing happened when they had all the windows in the house replaced -- the windows were old, rusting, letting in wind and moisture, and needed to be updated, but dad kept arguing that there was nothing wrong with them. see also: the cracked and warped front-porch tiles that needed replacing; the old, inefficient toilets that needed upgrading; the big patch of blistered plaster in the dining room that needs to be patched and repainted because of a (now-fixed) leaky pipe (again with much pre-plumber fuss).

yet, get this, when he decided to have the entire roof replaced this past year -- despite the roofer telling him it wasn't necessary and, subsequently, finding no damage to the roof structure once the shingles were all stripped off -- he balked at being challenged about it. the job cost my parents several thousand dollars and was pointless, but he didn't want to admit that he'd been wrong.

to recap: necessary repairs initiated by mom = not okay. costly, unnecessary repairs initiated by dad and actually discouraged by the person doing the repairing = totally A-OK!

so, it was no surprise that dad didn't get out his pom-poms and cheer for a major flooring overhaul. but, at this point, even begrudging compliance would have been preferred to what mom got instead: a grown man in his 70s, stomping around like a child having a temper tantrum, and refusing to do anything to help the process.

he didn't want to go look at tiles. he didn't want to help choose them ("you're just gonna buy what you want, anyway," he grumbled to mom). and, worst of all, over the past couple of days, he has done absolutely nothing to help prep the house for this job.

he sat in his recliner, griped about how this was all such a huge inconvenience and trial for him, and did nothing. his sole contribution to the process was to make it as unpleasant and difficult as possible for all involved.

i just now got off the phone with mom, who said she was so exhausted she didn't even want to watch TV. she'd been taping up doorways and moving stuff out of the kitchen, and said she was probably going to be in bed by 8:30, she guessed.

i'd offered to go over to the house this afternoon to help her move things, but YB had said she would be there and would help, and mom kept telling me not to come, that everything was fine. i was there this morning and cleaned all the bathrooms while my parents were at church (so mom wouldn't have to do it tonight), and was willing to go back to help after the photo shoot, but mom wouldn't have it. "it's FINE," she said.

yet, clearly, it was not fine. while dad sat in his recliner for the afternoon, mom and trix worked. once mom dropped dad and kyle off at trixie's in the early evening, she went back to the house and kept working for two more hours. until she was so tired she had to stop. so tired she didn't even want to watch television.

while dad, i'm sure, spent the evening sitting on trixie's couch and muttering about this terrible ordeal through which he's being forced to live.

i cannot believe how he behaves. nor can i believe trixie hasn't yet read him the riot act -- something he more than deserves, but something no one but YB could do (because he doesn't listen at all to mom or to me). i suspect, though, that even her patience will wear thin within a day or two of having him in her space non-stop.

eventually, i told my mom that we had to stop discussing this subject. it always sends my blood pressure through the roof and i was getting upset (again) at how poorly he continuously treats the woman who keeps the house, washes all his things, feeds him, does all the shopping, runs his errands, shuttles him to doctors' appointments, puts up with his miserable personality and gets zero cooperation -- let alone thanks -- for any of her efforts.

my heart breaks for her that she's married to someone who can be such a colossal asshat.