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Mr. T has a problem with letting Nat have her own things. He likes to think that everything is "ours". Normally, I would say, "Bravo!", "Indeed!", "Right on!". But I can't because it's hard to see them share everything when everything belongs to Nat. The living room furniture is her half of what she and I purchased together in 2005. The bedroom furniture is what she collected on her journey through college and life. The kitchen utensils are all the things Mom and I set her up with when she packed up and went to art school. The car is her car that she will have paid off in April. Even if you don't do a detailed inspection of what has been categorized as "ours" it's easy to see that nothing of Mr. T's made it into the pile.
This has Nat on edge. Which put me on edge. A much sharper, pointier edge than I should have been on when my Sister Day got encroached on. Yes, encroached. Because Mr. T felt that Sister Day should be Sibling Day and called both of his sisters and invited them to our gathering. Which he neglected to mention and we only found out about because Little T (his youngest sister who's 17) blew up Nat's phone wanting to know where we were then, where we were going to hang out, and who was driving because we were going 5 deep. And then Middle T (the middle child and oldest daughter who's 19 and in college) went on about how excited she was to have Sibling Day because "we've never hung out with just the sibs" and this is gonna be "super great!" All I'm saying is that I haven't had a night out with just my sister since she met Mr. T because apparently he has no friends. Which we will address at a time when I'm not angry or distracted.
So we go out - the five of us - and hit up a downtown spot that's known for their whiskey. Middle T orders a beer but I give her the Mom face and let the server know that she's 19. Mr. T calls me a hater. I remind him that I volunteer at prisons I don't reside in them. Whatevs. That's when Little T decides to tell us all that she's pregnant... again. Because she already has a one-year-old. I. Lose. My. Damned Mind. I told her that this was unacceptable. To get pregnant once was a mistake but now she is being careless and disrespectful to herself, her son, her mother and the rest of her family. She obviously has learned NOTHING by being a single parent because if she had she would not have been so careless this time around. What's worst is that it's a completely different individual from her son's father and can't determine if she conceived by her current boyfriend or the guy she cheated on with him.
Mr. T tried to stop me but I told him that I blame him as well. As her older sibling it is his duty to hold her to a higher standard, to expect more from her, to ensure that she was motivated to continue her education. Instead we find him enabling her, fabricating her excuses, and shrugging it off like she didn't just take a dozen steps backward. I told Little T that just because she comes from a family that expects nothing from her and her life doesn't mean that she shouldn't expect more of herself. I implored her to get her GED or a part-time job. I challenged her to rise to the occasion and to use this time in her life to begin the path towards better opportunities for herself and her children.
I should have said it all in Italian because she still would have given me the same blank stare but I would have at least had a chance to practice. (Rosetta Stone is expensive. We want to make sure it's working.) I shoke my head in sadness and mumbled about how they are an entire family that doesn't believe in consequences. Mr. T thought I was being too hard on his sister and overstepped my boundaries by far. I told him that someone needed to say it and he only thinks I was too harsh because I'm nice to him. He was under the impression that I was nice to him because he's good to my sister. So I told him what I really think. That he's not good enough for my sister. That he has nothing to offer her and until he brought something to the table he would - in no way - be in my good graces. I told him that I think he's lazy, entitled, and flat-out ridiculous. When he met my sister had neither car nor job nor place to lay his head and I find that completely unacceptable. I told him more about him than he could ever dream of me knowing and that of the twenty or so people that I've asked about him NOT ONE has been willing to vouch for him. I told him that I'm letting him bide his time but the next time he brings Nat to tears he will be dealt with. I let him know that under no circumstance was I supportive of their union but I will always be supportive of Nat. And that as long as he makes her happy, he'll be allowed to stick around. I told him that he thinks Ashton's mom makes his life hard but he would find out what hard really is if he were to put Nat in the same position.
In short, I put my claws in him so deep that I think I still have remnants of his sack under my nails. I don't know if he's scared and I don't really care. But like I told him... it's in his best interest to believe everything I said because I'm not known for lying.