I think I just had as close to an emotional breakdown as is possible. My pc is dying, so yesterday I replaced the power supply in an attempt to fix it, and while the power supply was bad, it appears the mobo is dying as it will not recognize all my memory, so I am frantically copying files to my mac. While doing this, there are five dogs in my office terrorizing me. Lovey and Thurston have attacked every cable, and are generally just being hyper nuisances, nipping at my heels, riling up the other dogs, and just creating a general environment of mania. I could feel my blood pressure rising as every time I reached for something, Lovey grabbed it and ran down the hallway with it, and then I chased after her and stepped in a pile of dog poo and just screamed “SHAWN I NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP.”
I think this is what it was like when mom had finally had enough with unruly kids and broke out the wooden spoon. I remember one time when I was 13 or so and she went to crack me with the spoon and it cracked in half on my back and we both just got hysterical.
My favorite story of driving my mother insane is one day in my late teens I had just been needling her and needling her and she finally was driven to the brink of madness and yelled at me, and this happened:
Mom: “You know what I think of you? You know what I think of you? There! “OJ!” and then gave me the middle finger.
Me: “What the hell does OJ have to do with anything?”
Mom: “Obscene Gesture!”
Me: “Gesture isn’t spelled with a J, mom.”
That’s when we all got hysterical again, and to this day, OJ means obscene gesture in the Cole household. It’s particularly funny because my mother has a PhD in English and would never misspell gesture.