Inherit the Windbag
Give it to me
Take. What's. Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
A Perfect Circle - "The Package" - Thirteenth Step - 2003
At the first holiday dinner in which Mom was unable to come to the table, Father's Day 2014 a year before she died, we were enjoying dinner there when Neila, babbling about something, mentioned her inheritance.
Fine.
Soon after, she mentioned it again.
Lisa and I immediately shot one another a WTF? glance, as we reliably do when something odd happens. Said inheritance required that one at our table and two in the house where we sat be, well...dead, see. Some would suggest that trespasses on good manners.
Again, she mentioned it. The WTF glance and brow-furrowing lengthened. And, once more, during dessert, to total four. Lisa actually did a discreet facepalm on that one and I'm positive Reagan saw it 'cuz we made eye contact immediately after.
Four mentions of her coming inheritance during, say, an 80 minute meal. Someone was ready to go shopping, it seemed.
The number of times I mentioned same at a holiday dinner? Zero, obviously. Again, it just seems uncouth to happily talk about a matter that can come to pass only upon the death of our hosts.
That it was occurring during that first holiday meal missed by either parent due to the ever-nearing Grim Reaper was not lost to us. The clock was ticking and Neila was clearly aroused by that.
Later, in the kitchen, I wisecracked to Lisa, “Perhaps I should ask Dad, in front of everyone, if he'd like to have an autopsy and which cremation urn he fancies.”
Immense Contrast
Behold an anecdote illustrating how different my household's perspective is from Neila's.
Lisa didn't know her biological father until she was in her 30's. Her mother, a troublesome autocrat herself who would fit well on this site, told her he wanted nothing to do with her.
That was false - for years he, a quite nice man, tried to contact her and offer child support and a paternal relationship, but was rebuffed by Lisa's psycho, drunken mother.
Pop has several children and some assets. One day we learned Lisa was included in his will. That was nice to learn, but here's the kicker - whether she would inherit anything from Pop, who is plenty old and has lymphoma, flat-out never occurred to us over a good 15 years. Hell, it should have - we try to be thorough - but didn't.
We just don't think like that.
This One Time, at Dr. Phil Inheritance Camp
Much, much, much worse, she mentioned Dr. Phil at least three times. Prolly four. It was like that hilarious band camp thing, only with a Dr. fucking Phil + Neila's fucking voice double-barreled downgrade.
If you're a regular viewer of and preoccupied with Dr. Phil and his exploitation TV spewed from a toxic workplace, you're shitting on the one precious life you've been given (sorry, Hindu friends).
Stop that.