Boots is Okay, Everything Else is Up in the Air

So Boots survived surgery. I was warned by his doctor, and then by a friend, that just taking his balls off would not mean he won't bite people. Darn, I though that would do it. So I'm crossing my fingers. Otherwise, he's a dead dog and I don't want that for him. He's a great guard dog and pal but I cannot have him chasing people into traffic anymore.
That said, everything else is up in the air. My sister R is mad at me, my son Marco was mad at me for demanding help for Chepa last night when she was cooking for her sisters here at the house and the babies were threatening to pour hot oil on their heads--Marco asked: Is this how you show love to me???? Is this how you love the babies? By demanding I take care of them?"
My answer was a simple, "yes."
Italo was just as angry: "I don't approve of mom of having these two babies, so I'm not going to take care of them."
Man, I was livid. "They are your sisters and they are going to get hurt here and I can't deal with it and cook at the same time. So Get your fucking asses out here and take these babies to your rooms and keep them out of the kitchen."
Which didn't go over very well.
Oh, well.
It was my sister Peg's birthday yesterday and so Happy Birthday, Peg.
And today I was interviewed by someone on video for three hours. Next year it will show up on PBS or Cable. Good for me. I have hesitated or denied this for years because of what my teeth look like. Now that my teeth have been worked on, I was willing and I did great. Welcome to the world, Mr. Gorman.
Thanks for listening to this short, personal rant.
P