The time he got mad at me for buying the wrong kind of windshield wiper fluid, and I couldn’t prove that I’d bought the right kind, because I’d already thrown the bottle away, but he wouldn’t take my word for it. (November 2002)
The time he said I lost the Renaissance Festival tickets and he harangued me about it mercilessly, then found them at his apartment. (October 2003)
The time he complained that I was going to ruin my transmission by shifting gears too late when I drove, so I started shifting a little earlier, and then he complained I was shifting gears too soon. (Sometime between 2002 and 2004)
The time he claimed I never gave him a grocery list that he later found in his pocket. (September 2004)
The time he said I lost the dog’s medication in our apartment in Denver and he harangued me about it mercilessly, then he found them back at the house in Kansas City with his stuff. (April 2007)
The time he told me that I didn’t read the instructions on a bottle of drain cleaner, when I had. Then he said I hadn’t used it twice, and I had. He wasn’t even there when I was doing this, but I couldn’t convince him that he had no way of knowing what I’d done or not done. (April 2011)
The time he told me that I couldn’t run in a relay marathon, because I just wasn’t up to it, even though I was training for it. Then he told me that I wasn’t training, even though he has no way of knowing what I do with my lunch hours. (March 2011)
It occurs to me that he complains that his brother treats their mother this same way.
