Let's try this again, shall we?
One of the things about getting to be my age, besides saying insufferable things such as "when you get to be my age," is that one's parents often turn into Old People. Not all old people, alas, become Old People. My dad has become one, my mom is looking at the brochures with disinterest.
Example:
Phone rings. I look at the Caller ID, see it's my parents' house.
Me: Hello?
Dad: When are you coming over so we can do the thing with the car?
Me: What thing with what car?
Dad: Why must you be so unreasonable?
Me: I get unreasonable when I have no bloody idea what people are telling me they expect me to do.
Dad: You get that unreasonableness from your mother.
Me: All perfectly true, no doubt, but I still have no idea what you're talking about.
Dad: Her dad was like that, too.
Me: How did Grandpa M. deal with people calling him up with cryptic requests?
Dad: Good lord, will you let me talk?
Me: Go.
Dad: When are you coming over so we can do the thing with the car?
Me: Which thing, dad?
Dad: The thing with the scuffs.
Me: You mean polish out the scuffs on your car?
Dad: What else could it be?
Me: Sometimes I wonder. But what do you need me for?
Dad: To show me how it's done.
Me: I already showed you how it's done.
Dad: Not with the polisher.
Me: It's the same thing only it's less work, dad.
Dad: How would I know that?
Me: The manual, I guess.
Dad: Those damned things never make sense!
Me: What part didn't make sense?
Dad: You are so much like your mother.
Me: Dad, if you are asking me to come over and polish out the scuffs, you'd save a lot more time by just asking so I can say I'm too busy. Take it over to one of those car detail places.
Dad: I can see there is just no talking sense to you.
And so the long day wears on.
Now, he is perfectly capable of doing it, but for some bizarre reason he has reached the conclusion that, having turned 70, he no longer need expend any effort and people (i.e., me not my kid sister) are to perform all sorts of tasks.
Which is pretty similar to what I get from my sons.
-J.
P.S. TFBIM asserts I'll be like that when I'm his age, I'll be the same way. In fact, when (if, knock wood) I get to be that age I'll just feel comfortable telling people to bugger off because I'm reading.
Example:
Phone rings. I look at the Caller ID, see it's my parents' house.
Me: Hello?
Dad: When are you coming over so we can do the thing with the car?
Me: What thing with what car?
Dad: Why must you be so unreasonable?
Me: I get unreasonable when I have no bloody idea what people are telling me they expect me to do.
Dad: You get that unreasonableness from your mother.
Me: All perfectly true, no doubt, but I still have no idea what you're talking about.
Dad: Her dad was like that, too.
Me: How did Grandpa M. deal with people calling him up with cryptic requests?
Dad: Good lord, will you let me talk?
Me: Go.
Dad: When are you coming over so we can do the thing with the car?
Me: Which thing, dad?
Dad: The thing with the scuffs.
Me: You mean polish out the scuffs on your car?
Dad: What else could it be?
Me: Sometimes I wonder. But what do you need me for?
Dad: To show me how it's done.
Me: I already showed you how it's done.
Dad: Not with the polisher.
Me: It's the same thing only it's less work, dad.
Dad: How would I know that?
Me: The manual, I guess.
Dad: Those damned things never make sense!
Me: What part didn't make sense?
Dad: You are so much like your mother.
Me: Dad, if you are asking me to come over and polish out the scuffs, you'd save a lot more time by just asking so I can say I'm too busy. Take it over to one of those car detail places.
Dad: I can see there is just no talking sense to you.
And so the long day wears on.
Now, he is perfectly capable of doing it, but for some bizarre reason he has reached the conclusion that, having turned 70, he no longer need expend any effort and people (i.e., me not my kid sister) are to perform all sorts of tasks.
Which is pretty similar to what I get from my sons.
-J.
P.S. TFBIM asserts I'll be like that when I'm his age, I'll be the same way. In fact, when (if, knock wood) I get to be that age I'll just feel comfortable telling people to bugger off because I'm reading.

Comments
PS. Hope you get some sleep now.
I'm only sayin.
DGB, I went back to grinding out account statements for my clients.
-J.
When your father does the same thing, you attribute it to his advancing years.
It's the stupidity, stupid.
-J.
My grandmother decided to be helpless at a very early age.
If you are getting ready to go somewhere, the person who draws the short straw gets to do her hair.
It's all sorts of fun. First you get the kids ready, then you get the grandma ready and if you're really lucky, you get time to comb your own damn hair.
Ah, not that I have, of course. My parents offer way too much sympathy to me for my packratamus spouse for me to ever consider a move further than an hour's drive from them. And they NEVER ask me to assist them. I bring small fry, you know, who also assist - and well, it just gets messy. And stuff gets busted. Um, there's an idea! Bring your dynamic duo over to Grandpapa's! Let them help! Heh heh heh
I am assuming your mother IS unreasonable?