When I thought it just couldn't get any worse

Well, we all know how bad it was when the leak started.

When we got home, mum was there to see that we were ok, but she started talking about plasterers and fair enough blahdeblah we had to know what was going on. Then she left, and she obviously wanted to tell us something else but she was being really annoying by saying 'oh you'll find out sooner or later'.

Half an hour later, Craig and mum come back, and we were subjected to being manhandled by that awful man who I have been informed 'cares about us', but I don't really give a damn. My patience wears thin when I am forced to kiss and cuddle him like I'm his own daughter. His breath smells like vomit and he has this constant long stubble that bloody well hurts. Moreso he asks me things five times over and no matter how enthusiastically I answer, I will be asked the same question again. And again. And again. It's infuriating. Because mother as usual was making no sense whatsoever, I got a glare and was dragged into the lounge for a little 'talk' (which involved me having to sit down, with Craig... well. Pulled into a 'hug' more like) The conversation went something like this, complete with Craigspeak:

(yes I completely nicked dad's way of portraying conversation - sorry ^^)

"Ya mum's 'ad it completely up t'ere with all this sh-i-te that's been goin' on in this house"
(really? what all the shit that happens when she's not here? Gosh it must be so terrible for her, having to cope with this while she's in that pub, drinking the night away and being social... terrible, how does she ever cope?)
"So a think it's time y' started 'elping 'er a bit, 'cos av been gettin' it in the neck all weekend..."
"Yeah ok. Sure."
"Yeah a think y' should start 'elping 'her a bit - will yer start 'elping 'er?"
"Yes."
"If y'ever need t talk about anythin' y can talk t' me."
"Thanks."
"If y'ever need t talk about anythin' y can talk t' me."
"Thankyou."
"Right."

This pissed me off. I'd been the one who had been coping with that leak all weekend. Oh noes, she's had to call the workers in and she's going to have to buy a new carpet. How extremely taxing on her poor little self. How could I have helped with that anyway? Did she expect me to do it for her? And how would 'emptying the dishwasher, taking the dog out, making dinner and cleaning my own clothes' have helped the leaking ceiling? I did those anyway btw :) but... all I have done to help already didn't seem to do anything, so... what did she expect me to do? Obviously I got it wrong. Again. Lol!

Anyway, I found out she'd got Craig to ask us to clean up after the plasterers. I'm guessing that this is because she can't summon up the energy to do it herself because she's 'too tired'. Oh diddums is tired? Oh dear - spent all night in the pub and didn't get to sleep until whenever? so yes, poor mother will be fucking tired.

Don't get me wrong, I would have gladly helped if she'd just asked me herself. Nicely, without having to
1) do it through someone else
2) talk about be behind my back (this is another story for another time)

I guess since Dad already knows how bad it is here, and that he already wants us to go live there, it doesn't matter that I actually recount some of the stuff that goes on. This is just once incident that really hacked me off.