Write about irritation…

You know how sometimes you get that little bit of raw spot on your butt because you’ve been wiping too hard, too long, right on that same spot?

You know how your little brother is always singing that same chorus, over and over, an dover and over again?

You know how your partner, whether you’re in a fully recognized, legal-status relationship or not, has those little quirks that just get under your skin and bother you? It’s not like it’s really offensive enough to throw you out of the relationship – not a deal breaker or anything – but it is something that just makes you say, “Oh, no, not this shit again?”

You know how your parents are getting on you to clean your room, even though you don’t see why it should be clean, you don’t mind it like that, it seems perfectly fine to you that there are clothes and books, and candy wrappers, and old tags from the shirts your grandmother bought you three months ago, and Monopoly money, and your viola, and your homework , and your best friend’s harmonica, and your sister’s glasses case, all on the floor, you don’t really mind it, it just takes a couple of steps, a little bit of extra concentration,and you’re good, you can lie down in the bed and read a book and you don’t even notice the extra socks and hangers and the old burned-out light bulb that’s there, and since it’s your room you don’t even know why they bother trying to understand or make you clean it up, because, sheesh, it’s not like they have to sleep there, anyway, they have their own space, dammit, they have enough to do to keep a job and hold down a place to live, and why are they wasting their time wondering about you anyway?

You know how your parents are always annoying you with their insistence they’re not going to move to a nursing home? That they’re totally fine and capable of taking care of themselves, except that in the past month there have been: (1) small fire in the kitchen, and (2) falls, one for each, and (3) instances of forgetting to put the trash out to the curb on Tuesday morning, and (4) examples of forgetting the neighbor’s names, and (5) calls from the library, to You, to ask you what the password is for logging on to their account so they can renew their books. Yeah, none of those things, by themselves, are bad enough, but on the whole they make a good case for Assisted Living, and while you know they’ve got the money for it, your sister out in Nebraska doesn’t want to see them go, she’s just beside herself with worry, and yet you can’t help but fear it’s less about the care (or lack thereof) they’ll receive, and it’s more about the $$$ in her eyes, trying to angle for that inheritance to help pay off her own law school debt (currently in applied as she awaits Tommy and Angelina’s graduation, she absolutely must be their mom, they just can’t get on without her).

So, yeah, that’s a bit irritating, don’t you think?