Last week my cousin passed away after a brave battle with uterine cancer. She was my mother’s cousin and they were very close so, even though I had taken time off for medical procedures and even though my mother and I were having a tiff, I had to go. The service was a beautiful tribute to a wonderful woman. HOWEVER…
I arrived at the funeral home on Monday night. My father walks up and says, “Your mother and I have decided that [Pumpkinhead] is going to stay with us tonight so he can come to the funeral.” WTF?!?!? “We’ve already told [deceased cousin's Mom] and [Pumpkinhead's kindergarten teacher, a friend of my cousin] and they are super excited.” Again, WTF?!?!?! I was pissed.
But I tried to set a bit of a boundary. What I should have done was make them tell the people they had told that Pumpkinhead would NOT be coming. Instead, I told them I would sleep at their house (much closer to funeral home versus almost an hour to my place) and pick up Pumpkinhead from his Dad’s house in the morning. So they lost out on child time. Pumpkinhead didn’t even know my cousin had died so I had to tell him and he had tons of questions and it just generally sucked. Then Pumpkinhead and I left IMMEDIATELY after the service, foregoing the gravesite and the reception. Grrr.
Fortunately sweet Mr. V met us and took Pumpkinhead to daycare so that I didn’t have to take a whole day off of work, yet another thing they did not consider.


