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The chair, in front of the fridge.

My bone. We have an island (counter-top) in the middle of the kitchen. On one side of it, there is our dishwasher, sink, etc. On the other side, the fridge. In the past few months, two stools have found their homes in front of the fridge. My mother, thinking it is completely okay to sit in front of a fridge, gets annoyed when I open the fridge and the door swings and hits her. I think its annoying she sits in front of the fridge. So our fueled and feudal few month fight has seen some rather, I think, funny occurrences. For starters every time I see the chairs in front of the fridge, I moved them in some regard. At first I would move them across the room, say 5-8 paces away. The chairs kept finding their way back in front of the fridge. So then I started toppling them. So they had to be picked up. That didn't work either. I again moved the chairs away, and then stacked them on top of each other. No luck. Stubborn chair. Then I toppled them, interlocked them, and seemingly jammed them into a location that it took at least thirty seconds to move them back to the front of the fridge. Now, mind you, our kitchen is openly connected to our family room. The dining room is a doorway (without a door) not even three paces away from the fridge too. There are no fewer than 10 chairs, and three sofas within proximity of that fridge. Yet - she still sits in a chair in front of the fridge. Apparently this feudal exercise was about my stubborn mother and my stubborn request that a stool isn't placed in front of the holy sanctuary of my food.

Married, in 2 days.

It is really weird what occurs in a life right before marriage. Congratulations have started pouring in. Getting closer to my fiance, every minute of every day. I really look forward to the wedding cake, it is made of spice batter and apple filling. Kind of like a giant apple pie with actually good tasting cake mix. The invites went out a little late, but they went out... heh. The Bridal pictures were chosen just in time. Everyone was fitted for tuxes just in time. The location has been decorated, and everything is a green light. So I guess it's about this time that my mother decided to pick her final bone with me. The kind of bone where she complains about me being a slob, disrespectful, and ungrateful. I won't be living at home with her for more than 2 days - plus a week after the honeymoon, but she wanted to make sure I understood I failed her expectations. To me, a logic thinker, having a conversation full of complaints without any solutions, is pointless. To a mother, setting their child straight - so maybe I thought twice before being the same person yet in a marriage. I'm not completely sure.

Back to Life.

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