Can you stop a whiner?

In this post I plan to whine about someone else who is whining. And how I wish they would just stop.

Sue me. (a la Cindy)

Neo's got this great opportunity to go to Washington DC in early July to meet up with other Middle Schoolers and participate in a conference. Neo usually goes to NYC to visit Dear Butcher's parents in the summer, all by herself.

This year we are sending her to visit my parents in Boston. (She'll fly "unaccompanied minor".) At the end of the week, they will take her to UMUC Conference Center and register her and drop her off. At the end of her conference, Dear Butcher's mom, Grandma E, is to pick her up and bring her to NYC for their regular visit.

I'm so glad, Suisan, that you planned that all out so nicely so that each set of grandparents gets time with her. And she'll have a responsible adult to drop her off and pick her up, so she doesn't have to fly in to BWI airport all by herself wearing the approved nametag and hoping that the chaperones will meet her plane. Set this up in theory months ago. Made all the plane reservations a few weeks ago.

And now all the adults are whining.

"I want to take Neo to Jamestown, and there's not enough time to do that before we have to take her to the conference."

"She wants to visit BOSTON. See the sites in BOSTON. See her cousins in BOSTON."

And then my dad chimes in, "I'll get her at the airport, but can't the airline give me two gate passes? Your mother doesn't want to wait at security."

"Dad, go ahead. You call the airline. Maybe they'll tell you something different."

But all this is nothing compared to Grandma E. If I didn't like her so much, I'd hit her.

She's annoyed that there's a window of pick up from 10:30 am to 11:00 am at the hotel. She's researched which airport is closest to the hotel, but has discovered that flights from JFK are too expensive. Oh good lord, let the whining begin. She has set up some strange arrangement wherein her daughter-in-law's sister will pick up Neo at the hotel, take her to the airport, and pop her on a plane to NYC unacompanied minor.

"Oh, I forgot," she starts in again. "She'll have all those bags. She can't fly with all those bags."

Wha? I think. How is it you think she's getting to Boston? But instead I say, "If you've got Rachel taking her to the airport, she can take her to any one of three airports in the DC area. You fly down and meet them at whatever airport you want."

"Oh, I can't make Rachel do that."

But you are already having Rachel pick up a kid for you!! Ahem. Yes.

Somewhere in this silly merry-go-round, I make frustrated hand gestures to Dear Butcher and said, "Talk to your MOTHER. I need to tell the conference WHO is picking her up and when." So he did. He tried. I have to give him credit for it.

He pointed out that train from NYC to DC was cheap and quick. "Take a train! Go to the conference, pick her up, and then fly home if you want."

"But then I'll have to get from the train to the conference."

OH MY GOD. This is where we both completely lost it. You can't figure this step out? How old are you? How long have you lived IN FUCKING MANHATTAN!! Sing with me, "Big yellow taxi, took away my old man..." Jeez, this isn't that hard.

At this point Dear Butcher pointed out that not only would she have a taxi at her disposal once she stepped off the train (Look. Ticket's only $67), but if she really wanted to, she could walk outside her apartment door, and take a cab all the way to Washington DC. It's not unheard of.

She wrote down addresses, phone numbers, email contacts, fares, dates, and refused to make a decision. That was five days ago.

Last night she and Dear Butcher were on the phone, and she started whining again about how difficult this all was. He told me that he lost it.

"We set this up with you months ago. Are you picking her up or no?"

"Yes."

"OK then. Do it. It's not that hard. You travel all over Manhattan; you can make it to Washington and back. Hell, you've traveled all over the country too. What! Is! The! Problem!?"

"I don't know. It just seems so difficult."

Ugh. I could just shake her. That's my kid she's futzing around with.

Or, I could, I suppose, get Rachel's phone number from her myself and set up the whole blessed thing for her.

Did I mention that I don't know exactly WHEN Neo is coming home from Manhattan to California, because Grandma E hasn't yet figured out what day of the week is best to come home on?