Now that the water company is going to raise water rates in July, my husband and I are making plans to conserve water. When Mother and Evil Shorty were not looking, we installed water savers on all the faucets in the house.
Evil Shorty lets the water run and run. Many times I walk by a bathroom and the water is running. No one is around. Evil Shorty has been at it again. I turn the water off. Our monthly water bill averages $70 a month, which is ridiculous. Before Mother and Evil Shorty moved in, the water bill was $40 a month. Kevin and I have been reminding everyone, including Evil Shorty, that there is a water crisis in California and the rates are going up. Kevin put signs up in the kitchen, bathroom, and laundry area that say, "Please do your share and conserve water."
Evil Shorty does not get it. Her attitude with everything is, "Screw you guys. I'm just going to do what I want."
So, Kevin has been telling Shorty constantly to turn off the water. He points to the faucet and turns it off. Then he points to the conserve water sign. Evil Shorty says, "Oh yeah, okay. okay."
Yesterday, while Kevin was at work. Evil Shorty was at it again with the water in the kitchen. Like I've done so many times before, I go into the kitchen and turn the water off. I tell Evil Shorty there is a drought and we need to save water. Because she's not wearing her hearing aids and pretends not to hear, she says, "what? WHAT?" I go under the sink, and turn off the water.
Five minutes later I hear the water in the bathroom sink running. Okay, so she's in the bathroom running the water. The water goes off. Two minutes later the water is running again. It stops. It starts again. It stops. It starts. After thirty minutes of this, I write Evil Shorty a note. "Stop using the water so much. We have to conserve it. There is a drought in California."
Evil Shorty looks up at me and says in her smart-ass tone, "Well I'm just going to do you a favor and move out. I'm going to move in with Mike." Mike is Evil Shorty's gambler son who lives in a Vegas hell hole near the Strip. Whenever Shorty goes to Vegas, her money dwindles by hundreds of dollars and that's just for a short trip.
I can't believe my luck. I say to Evil Shorty, "Go. Move out." I go to my room. The next thing I know Evil Shorty is beating on my door yelling my name.
I open the door.
Shorty snarls at me, "You've changed. You used to be nice. Don't you remember everything I've done for you?"
I tell Shorty the only thing she has done for me is tell me I would never amount to anything, called me fat, and said I was just like my mother. I close my bedroom door and lock it.
Evil Shorty starts beating on the door again. I'm not letting her in. She starts to do her fake vomiting and coughing. In her evil voice she says, "There you've made me vomit. You can clean it up yourself."
I open the door, see there's no vomit and I tear into the four foot evil bitch. For two years I've allowed her to verbally attack me, my mother, and my daughters. Now she's done wreaking havoc in my house. Evil Shorty doesn't get a word in probably for the first time in her evil life. I tell her she's done crossing boundaries in this house. No more feeding the dogs cheese, donuts, and McDonalds, no more telling my mother she's fat, ugly, worthless and a nothing. No more yelling at my kids, and she needs to pack up and get out.
Evil Shorty says, "I'm so glad to be moving out." He he he (evil laugh)
Mother, who has been sick, comes out of her room and says, "Let's go Mother. I'm taking you to Vegas."
I can't believe my luck. I'm so happy. I go back to my room and listen for the sound of tires screeching away from my house, from my life. Thank God that crazy bitch is gone. I text my husband the good news. He's relieved to see her go. We don't even care about the rent she pays. It's not worth the $400 in utility bills and aggravation each month.
Just as I'm feeling peaceful and happy, Mother returns with Evil Shorty. They were not even gone 30 minutes.
Mother gives me her big puppy-eyed look. I say, "Mother, you've been bitching and complaining about your mother for two years. Now's the time to stand up to her.
Mother sits down and tells Evil Shorty what an evil bitch she really is. Mother says she's tired of her feeding the dogs and making them fat. Evil Shorty denies it. Mother says she's tired of being called fat, an elephant, a nothing, a worthless piece of shit. Shorty denies it. The drama is relentless. I text my husband. "Come home now."
When my husband comes home we all tell Evil Shorty how mean she is and how she does not respect anyone's boundaries. Evil Shorty tries to change the subject. We steer it back to the issues.
Finally, in a last ditch response Evil Shorty admits she's a mean bitch because she cares so much about everyone. We tell her no more verbal abuse and no more feeding the dogs. Shorty says she's moving out. She's supposed to leave in two days. Great.
An hour later, she's staying for a month to pack.
Two hours later, she's staying for two months because Mike is going on a trip.
I tell Mother, "Enough, she needs to be out soon, not two months, not one month." I say, "She needs to be out in a week. She's Mike's problem now. You've been taking care of her for over ten years. She's out of here."
Today my husband brought home boxes for her to pack. I dumped them on the floor in her room.
She hasn't started packing yet.
I asked Mother, "Has your mother been nice to you today."
Mother looks up at me with her puppy-dog eyes, "She been real nice to me today. Real nice."