J. wanted to go through all his old comics. They'd been in the closet in his old room, now the computer room, for years. It turned out some of the same ones I collected were in there, too. I don't know how mine would have gotten there, so I think he probably had gotten copies, too. I'm not sure. I would have given him two plastic storage bins, but since I had more comics as well, I kept one.
At least we persuaded Mom to take something for anxiety. Too bad it wasn't an extended-release kind, but it seemed to have helped somewhat, judging from what she's usually like. I retreated when everyone started yelling about J. going through all his comics there on the couch. He started yelling back, and I went upstairs. I'll go down again in a bit. I'm glad I have a computer in my room now.
A few hours later: Well, we had a good bit of arguing. I think today had the most amount of open conflict of any holiday I could remember. Not that we don't love each other, but our personalities grate when it's specific people -- and a specific combination of people -- in a room at the same time. I got the usual for having too much stuff around. We did find a couple of boxes of my books in the living room. I did a major weeding through my books some months ago, but it looks like it's time for another.
There were a couple of non-functional flashlights on the coffeetable. That's where they ended up, and that's quite the typical sort of thing. I unscrewed the top of one, and it was all gritty, so I screwed it back together, not wanting to get into it right then. Dad had to take it apart again, and it was all rusty. He spilled flakes of rust on his shirt. The batteries were a little rusty, too, and need to be disposed of, because that's rather dangerous. Oddly, our church takes them to dispose of -- old batteries and old Bibles. I don't understand the batteries part.
I said to just throw the flashlight out, as I'd only paid two dollars for it. I tried to get it back to throw it away, and Dad smacked me lightly with it. Mom said he was sick. Well, I come by my hoarding tendencies honestly. Dad took the flashlight up to his den, insisting that he'd fix it. Apparently he wants to put new batteries into a rusty old cheap flashlight. It's not like I needed it. I have a Mag-Lite in my car, and at least two other functioning flashlights around besides that.
(Added Friday: I asked Dad for the rusty two-dollar flashlight in the morning. He said he had it on his workbench in the garage. He brought it back as far as the kitchen counter, and I threw it out. I think it nearly caused him physical pain to see it go.)
So it was me versus Mom on too many books around, which is an everyday thing. It was J. versus Mom and K. on sorting through an overflowing storage box of comics right then. It was Mom and me versus Dad on not throwing away a rusty old flashlight. So I didn't fight with K., I didn't really fight with J., and it was the same-old, same-old with Mom and me. Well, she married Dad, and got a hoarder who completely lacks organizational skills. J. and I inherited hoarding tendencies, and we're hardly pinnacles of organization. Mom bemoans that we didn't take after her, with her organizational skills.
I showed J. the e-readers I was willing to give away. He said he'd have to look into his finances to see if he could afford to go in on it with me to give Dad one as a birthday/Christmas present. Not that I really want to give Dad anything at the moment, not after he smacked me with a flashlight.
The food was good. I was a major participant in clean-up. K. had brought an apple pie as well, and we already had one, so they took that back with them, along with the remaining half of the bottle of wine. It was good to see J. and K., though they were arguing with each other at points. It was good to see Morris. Perhaps I'll do a book-weeding this weekend.