Another weekend at home

Mum went to rinse a glass out tonight and broke it by accident.
"Sorry Kev," she said, "I've broken your glass."
Kevin looked over from the TV.
"What's that?"
"The glass you won for golf."
"With my name on it?" He askd, then sighed a massive, exaggerated sigh like she'd done something really slack and started about how special it was. "I can't believe you broke my glass..."
I grinned at him. I like a good sarcarstic joke, and Kev is usually pretty sharp with dry wit, but he didn't see me grinning. intead he went on some more, and he looked kind of serious.
"You're kidding aren't you?" I said finally and Kevin directed his serious look toward me.
"No, that glass was a trophy!"
I studied his face. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was pressed into a straight line. A serious line. "Wow. I can't beieve you aren't joking."
I think he was getting angrier here.
"It was an accident, Kev," I said. "Glasses that get used get broken, and we used it as a glass."
"I won that trophy, it was vey important to me, and then she just goes and breaks it!"
"Mum didn't break it on purpose, she wasn't doing anything irresponsible with it. It was an accident and I don't think you should be so upset. I really thought you were joking. In fact I'm disappointed you aren't joking." Mum had dinner on the table by this time, and so I sat down at the table and started to eat some.
"Maybe she should be a bit more considerate. That was a trophy."
"It was a glass. If it was a trophy, it should be with your other trophies and wouldn't have been broken. It was a glass and you kept it in the glass cupboard, with all the other glasses that often get broken. Accidentally. That's why I even used it, it was the only wine glass left in the glass cupboard. The others have probably been broken. I did't even know you won it, all the other glasses with writing on them are just boring brand glasses." I had used the glass earlier to drink a glass of red wine, which Kevin and I had discussed the flavor of extensively. It was nice wine. It's called 'Soft Red' and it's cheap and they said they'd give me a bottle of it. Anyway I don't think I played a part in breaking the glass though, just because I got it out. It was used regularly, by different people, it could have happened any night.
"Are you saying it's my fault that she broke that glass?" Kevin asked me.
"No, I'm saying it was a forgivable accident so maybe you should forgive her instead of carrying on like this. This is ridiculous. This entire conversation. I wish it was a joke. The glass is broken. We're not bringing it back."
"Well, it is broken, and it's not a joke." Kevin stormed out of the house where it's freezing cold, and I figured he'd regret it pretty soon. He left his dinner on the table getting cold.
Mum and I talked about jobs and things until we finished our food and then tidied everything up, except for Kevin's meal, cutlery and the salt and pepper for when he came back in. Before I left the dining room so that Kevin could eat without seeing my face, I told Mum I was sorry, but it's just not the right way to act when someone makes a mistake. "Bad things happen but you need to look at them in perspective. I know it's something everyone forgets sometimes but crying over spilt milk won't clean up the mess."

My parents have been fighting recently and I can't help but hate it. When they speak to each other badly I've been going insane, telling them they're being ridiculous and they're not dealing with things the right way. They're just so goddamn concerned with money. It's like they're dying or something. I've even had to explain why we aren't dying to them. When Mum told me they were surprised by how calm I was.
"Well you're taking this well," she said.
"Well, I know it means changing but I like changes."
Mum looked confused.
"Also, Kev told me last weekend so I've had a while to adjust," I added.
"I just don't know what to do. He's gambled away our lives!" She got a bit teary. Mum cries easily. I guess I do too when I'm stressed. It feels good to cry sometimes. Sometimes. Mum cries all the time.
"We're not dead, Mum."
"We may as well be," she sobbed.
"And Kev isn't a gambler. Business isn't gambling, Mum."
"He may as well be, everything we've ever worked for is gone!"
"It's not everything, and it's not gone. You shouldn't exaggerate everything like that."
It's hard to comfort Mum when it's a little bit funny, and a little bit annoying, and a little bit sad all at the same time, which is usually.
"And I can't believe he told you last week! He didn't tell me until yesterday, when we went to the accountant!" She was accusing Kev of keeping her in the dark, but I remember him telling me he'd tried explaining it to her, but she either won't listen, or doesn't understand.
"Mum, I think he told you and I think you weren't listening." I could tell she was thinking he might have told her too.
She didn't say anymore.

I think they really understand the situation, but a lot of the time they forget reality and just get stuck in all their feelings, and then there are all these fights. I'm pretty sure they're nightly, unless they fall asleep early because they're exhausted from working or renovating or moving furniture all day, and drunk. I wouldn't know if they''re nightly though because I try not to be here most of the time. It's hard to write essays with all the screaming going on, but when I'm here I try to tell them what I think they're doing wrong and what they should do about it.
Once I told them it doesn't matter that I've run out of pity for them because they have enough self-pity for all of us. I've been telling them they need to work together and move on. I keep saying that if they speak to each other better they'll feel better about each other. I know I'm right, but sometimes I worry I'm doing the wrong thing. Once Mum was threatening to leave Kev, saying she doesn't know if she loves him anymore. She was telling me about it one night when I was getting ready to go somewhere.
"Mum," I said, "Kev's made a big mistake, but if you've married someone who you won't stand by when they fuck up, then I'm afraid you've made a bigger mistake." After I said that I was worried she actually would leave him, but tonight, after dinner and before I went to my room, Mum said she told Kevin the other day that she really does love him and she's prepared to stand by him as they move through the changes, as long as he listens to her.
I told her I'm glad she said that to him, but she's got to make sure she's easier to listen to. "Nobody wants to be screamed at."

Mum was good tonight, for once she made sense, except that when I went back to my bedroom and Kev returned to the house to feed, I heard her start up the conversation again so she'd be able to have the final word, which turned into a bunch of screeching and squawking about Kevin's feelings versus the fact that it was only a glass. I sat listening in my room getting furious and worried until eventually the noise errupted into a loud crash and clatter of things going everywhere, and I had to see.
"How do you feel about that? Have I hurt your feelings?" Kevin was standing back from the kitchen table that was covered in broken plate and half-eaten dinner.
"Kev," I yelled at him. "Talk about what's actually wrong, not about the stupid glass."
His face was red. "I'm talking about the fucking glass! She doesn't give a fuck about my feelings!" He was obviously not talking about the glass.
Everyone was fuming, and I was pointing everywhere as I spoke. "What good does this do?" I was pointing at the broken plate. "You're acting like an idiot about this."
Mum was also screaming about everything and shoved Kevin back as she moved toward him. I hate it when she shoves him. She has no right to shove him. I think she runs out of words and then she just shoves.
"Mum, don't shove him!" I yelled, and then Kevin jerked his fist back, and lowered it just as fast.
"You wouldn't!" I said.
"I know I wouldn't!" he said. I knew he woudn't. It always makes me worry, because maybe I would, but I'm my mother's child. Of course he wouldn't, and Mum shouldn't shove him.
"Both of you should stop. No wonder I don't like being here. It's a fucking circus. No wonder I hate this place!" My face was burning and I could hear my heart, and my eyes were getting wet.
"Then leave! You're a lazy bitch. You're a clingon, a lazy fucking clingon!" he pointed at me with wide eyes and I pointed back.
"I don't ask for anything from you anymore! You're making this up out of spite, you both do it, all the time when you get angry! Like when you say 'Oh, well maybe I should just off myself,' and when you, Mum, are like 'I don't know if I love Kev anymore maybe I want to leave him', you're both full of shit! You're saying things just to be spiteful! So Kev I don't know what exactly I'm clinging-on to, because there isn't a lot here, but I'm not exactly offended by that because I think you're just inventing this because you're acting like a stupid fucking ape over a stupid broken glass!"
"I'm upset because I won that glass when we went on a trip together, out to that golfing resort and had a wonderful weekend, and now it's fucking ruined. She broke it and she shows no remorse, which means that amazing weekend we had together means NOTHING to her. It's gone, forever now."
Kev stormed out of the house again and Mum locked the sliding door behind him, which was a bit much, and then we went and cleaned up bits of plate while the salad dressing soaked into the fabric on the chairs. I wiped down the table, amused that Kevin was so worried about Mum 'ruining' that one good weekend they must have had together by breaking that glass, when we could have had a good weekend this weekend without arguing about it.

I know it takes "two to tango", so to speak, but I think the rash of bad behaviour came from the other side. I think people should be less shit and I hope someone will tell me when I'm being shit so I can learn from it, like the other day when I thought someone was a jerk for cutting me off and drove close behind them in a carpark, until David pointed out that they probably didn't realise and now they'll just think I'm being a jerk for no reason. I thank him.