The Houseguest You Never Wanted

How my aunt’s recent self-invited visit to our household has rattled my world…

My dad is the second-oldest of six siblings. Earlier this summer, his big sister, Eileen, informed us during a phone call that she would be attending her high school reunion in Chicago.

Since we live six hours away from Chicago, she decided she was going to rent a car and drive up to stay with us for several days. She told us this without actually ASKING us, beforehand, if it was okay.

I guess when you’re someone’s only older sibling, you feel entitled to make yourself at home wherever they are.

Initially, Eileen told us she’d be willing to camp out on the couch in our living room.

None of us wanted that additional burden. So, at first, my dad was going to put her up in a hotel. Eventually, he decided that Eileen could take his bedroom down in our basement, and he would sleep on the twin bed at my parents’ upholstery shop.

The last time I’d seen Eileen in person was December 1996. Her late husband, Ken, was still alive at that time. My parents, my sister, and myself spent Christmas on their ranch outside of Austin, Texas. Also present were two of my dad’s younger sisters, Jeanne and Brenda; Jeanne’s then-wife, Sarah; and my now-deceased Grandma Eichberger.

During that trip, Eileen had been warm, spunky, and compassionate toward me and the rest of our extended family whom she was hosting.

It had been my Grandma Eichberger who went overboard with nagging, nitpicking, and engaging in melodrama.

Now, 26 years later, a lot has changed. First, in addition to my grandma having passed away, Ken also died from cancer less than a decade ago. Eileen’s two sons live with her on the ranch (although she had a separate house built for them to share, on the property). Also, Eileen — much like most of my dad’s siblings — has been entranced by the Trump cult.

The following is a day-by-day chronicling of Eileen’s visit, from a couple of weeks ago.

Sunday, September 11

When Eileen arrived, I hugged her. We were congenial enough. But, within half an hour of her arrival, it started.

First, she sat in the living room with my parents and my visiting sister. During this time, I worked on my computer in the adjoining dining room. I had umpteen tasks to complete related to my writing career and my online political activism. So, half the time, I would type away at my computer files; the rest of the time, I’d look up and make eye contact and listen to their conversation.

But that wasn’t good enough for Eileen. She repeatedly bitched at me for not physically leaving my computer to join everyone in the living room.

Never mind that our living room is tiny and hardly conducive to five people.

Forget about how my time is limited…and I already knew I was going to have to “babysit” Eileen during her extended visit here…so I was trying to get a jump-start so I wouldn’t fall too far behind with the stuff that I’m working on.

And, even if I had been sitting there in the living room — in my family, you can barely get a word in edgewise. What was I supposed to do? Just sit there staring at people and listening to trivial small talk?

Instead, Eileen made a big show about how she was going to refuse to talk to me for as long as I remained at the dining room table working on my laptop.

As we got ready for dinner, Eileen brought up my paternal grandparents (her and my dad’s parents). She shared with me and my sister how abusive our Grandma and Grandpa Eichberger were to her and my dad, back when they were kids (as though we supposedly had this sanitized romanticism toward our grandparents).

Eileen told us, very insistently, how behaviors and mindsets are “imprinted” on us based on those of our parents. This, she said, was according to the psychology books she has read.

I have no doubt there’s truth to this. It’s also ironic, coming from Eileen…since, over the course of the next three days, she would proceed to cluelessly exhibit so many of my Grandma Eichberger’s worst traits while adding in an appalling mixture of her own.

Case-in-point: right before dinner, as I headed down to the basement to fill up some water pitchers from our filtration system, Eileen asked me:

“Is that how you get your exercise?” (referring to walking up-and-down the stairs)

That question might seem innocent enough. But it was microaggressive in the context that I’d gained weight since Eileen last saw me. She knows that I don’t have a “traditional job,” and her insinuation would be that I don’t consciously carve out the amount of time per day to exercise that she believes I should.

We had a mostly-pleasant meal; my dad had prepared Italian beef sandwiches for us. The fact that I was joining my parents, sister, and Eileen for this meal was abnormal — seeing how I usually eat my dinners alone, in front of the TV.

There was one moment when Eileen asked me why I don’t have a driver’s license. Her tone and body language were very judgmental.

I should have just brought my laptop to the dinner table, and read this article aloud to her:

For the rest of the evening, Eileen, my parents, and my sister all hung out in the basement watching Fox News together.

I worked on my computer, alone, up in my bedroom…bracing myself for the rest of the week.

Monday, September 12

The plan, going into this day, was for my dad to use the oven in our kitchen to slow-bake ribs for dinner. Because of the amount of time it takes (4–5 hours), he needed the oven all to himself by the early-afternoon.

My mom asked me to make Pasta Ponza (an incredible recipe by Giada DeLaurentiis) for us; due to my dad needing the oven for baking ribs, I had to assemble and pre-bake my pasta dish in the mid- to late-morning. I was fine with this.

So, as I assembled the ingredients for Pasta Ponza, I turned on Rock the Park so I could have background noise while I cooked. Since Rock the Park is only half-an-hour long, the DVR timed out while I was still in the kitchen.

Once I could hear the first episode winding down, I hurried into the living room to quickly put on another episode.

At which point, Eileen interjected and said to me, “Don’t you think it would be polite to ask your dad what he wants to watch?”

My dad had been sitting on an armchair right there in the living room, watching Rock the Park because it happened to be on. It’s also an outdoor adventure show; so it’s the type of thing he’s amenable to watching.

But I knew Eileen’s subtext. Without saying it outright, she wanted me to put on Fox News.

Because she knew my dad would want to watch it.

And she knew my mom would want to watch it.

And she knew my sister would want to watch it.

And she herself probably wanted to watch it.

But I was the one devoting my time and energy to preparing an elegant dish for to us to eat that night. I didn’t need the sound of obnoxious Talking Heads wafting into my eardrums from the next room.

So I said to Eileen, “Well, I’m the one using the kitchen right now; that means I get to choose what’s on the TV, at this moment.”

To which Eileen reprimanded me, “That is so selfish!”

I bit my tongue, and shrugged…continuing with my meal prep.

Eileen then reiterated for me — in case I hadn’t heard her Texas-twanged throatiness, the first time — “You are being so self-centered right now!”

I shrugged again, and replied, matter-of-factly, “Well, that’s me!” There was an almost giddy or gleeful twinge to my voice, as I suppressed a smirk.

She seemed speechless. I took that opportunity to change the subject…to anything else. I started asking her about her donkeys that she raises on her ranch (one of them is named “Calamity Jane”). I began talking about the emu birds that Jeanne used to raise in New Mexico.

I wasn’t about to get into a heated political argument with Eileen. I’d already been embarrassed enough, earlier that morning, when she’d shared one of her memories of me (during my childhood), recalling:

“You know, one thing that always sticks out in my mind about him, when he was just a little tyke…he never wanted anyone to see him in just his underpants.”

Really, Eileen? So you’re ruminating over the fact that I was a modest young boy, and it boggles your mind that a toddler or preschooler might care about maintaining dignity around his family?

Because, apparently, little boys are supposed to be willing to demean and embarrass themselves in front of the entire extended family for everyone’s amusement…

For Eileen to bring up that inappropriate “memory” — and then, half an hour later, try to bully me into listening to right-wing political propaganda…

Of course, she probably neglected to remember how she was the one who’d invited herself to stay with us.

Eileen then went over to tour my parents’ upholstery shop for a couple of hours. By good fortune, their timing allowed me to meet with my online men’s group for an hour-and-a-half (I’d already had to blow off my weekly writer’s group, earlier that morning, due to preparing the Pasta Ponza). I vented to them about Eileen.

Nevertheless, I spent the rest of the afternoon “entertaining” her. All we did was sit around watching The Food Network together — because we both enjoy its programming.

If given the choice between watching Halloween Wars with my aunt or debating her on the “morality” of abortion policy — I’ll take the former over the latter, in a heartbeat.

That night, we had another delicious dinner. Eileen did make one comment, near the end of the meal, about how she would “shoot Mexicans” if they trespassed onto her property. This had been brought on by my dad initiating a rant about how out-of-control immigration is, and that it’s all Biden’s fault.

There was one moment, as we were finishing up dinner, when my aunt was debating my sister about the virtues, or lack thereof, when it comes to electric toothbrushes (my sister was “pro”; Eileen, as a former dental hygienist, was “con”). Eileen kept cutting off my sister, repeating the same pointed question.

After the third or fourth time, my sister responded — in a measured, controlled, but obviously-frustrated voice — to our aunt:

“I’m trying to answer you.”

Clearly, Eileen’s “imprinted” qualities from my Grandma Eichberger were likewise beginning to take their toll on my parents and sister…despite their shared political ideologies. Except Eileen’s behavior was becoming like my grandma on steroids. I don’t ever remember Grandma Eichberger having been this overbearing.

And Grandma Eichberger was most definitely overbearing!

My parents, sister, and Eileen spent the rest of the evening downstairs watching a DVD of Dinesh D’Souza’s documentary 2,000 Mules along with more Fox News.

I worked alone in my bedroom, trying to catch up on all the stuff I should have been doing while I was dealing with Eileen’s dysfunction.

Tuesday, September 13

No food prep for me to worry about, today. But as Eileen and I sat there in the living room that morning, watching The Price is Right (another show we both enjoy for casual viewing), she once again channeled my Grandma Eichberger by saying:

“You do know you’re going to have to take over for your dad, when he can’t do certain things anymore?” I nodded. She was most likely referring to tasks such as mowing lawn, monitoring our property taxes, etc.

“I mean, hopefully it won’t happen for quite a long time. But you still need to be prepared.”

Silently, I turned my attention back to Drew Carey’s onscreen charisma and enthusiasm.

Later on, as we continued to sit around in front of the TV, Eileen suddenly said to me:

“I want to see your room.”

“Well, I don’t want to show you my bedroom,” I answered.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because it’s really messy right now, and I’ll be embarrassed,” I said.

It was the truth. It was also why I hadn’t just holed myself up in isolation while Eileen loitered around our house all day…because I knew it would only be a matter of time before she came knocking on my door, asking to look around. Possibly just barging in uninvited, since there’s no lock on my door.

So I was consciously “babysitting” Eileen, when there was no one else around, to prevent her from being EVEN MORE of a nuisance — the way she would inevitably have become if I’d intentionally been hiding from her.

But she seemed to accept that.

For the next several hours, I shredded recycled papers there in the living room while we watched more Food Network (I’d temporarily moved my dad’s shredder upstairs from his basement den). Once Alex vs. America was over, Eileen went out with my mom and sister to check out the farmers’ market.

Up until this point, she had been flossing her teeth…right there in our living room. Also sipping from a glass of water. As Eileen departed with my mom and sister, she left behind her used string of floss and her empty glass on the end table.

As disgusting as it was, I threw away her floss and put her glass in the sink. When Eileen returned from their excursion, she observed:

“Somebody got rid of my floss and my glass.”

“That was me,” I told her. “I didn’t realize it was a premium-quality product that’s reusable.”

“Oh, it isn’t,” Eileen said, innocently. “But you didn’t have to pick up after me.”

Oh yes I did! I thought. Because you’re acting like a disgusting pig!

Soonafter, I had my monthly Zoom session with my therapist. I vented to her about how Eileen had thoughtlessly burdened us for the past 48 hours.

My dad grilled prime rib burgers for dinner, that night. But I faked a sickness, just so I could hibernate in my bedroom and everyone would know to leave me alone.

I ended up eating dinner alone while watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns on Hulu.

Meanwhile, my parents, sister, and Eileen were downstairs watching Fox News again. At one point, I could hear Eileen yelling at the TV:

“We need to tell people: STOP BEING AFRAID!”

Probably in reaction to something Tucker Carlson was babbling about, claiming that “typical” liberals were bullying upstanding conservatives.

Wednesday, September 14

Eileen’s final full day with us. And, once again, the ghost of my Grandma Eichberger (possessing Eileen’s body) asked me, as it got close to noon:

“Didn’t you eat breakfast yet?”

No, I didn’t! I wanted to yell at her. Because I’m so damn paranoid that you’re going to criticize whatever I choose to eat. So I’m eating NOTHING, right now!

Instead, Eileen and I watched The Pioneer Woman and Guy’s Grocery Games. Even though I can’t stand Guy Fieri, Eileen was determined to change my opinion. So I sat through it with her.

I wasn’t impressed.

That evening, we ordered Chinese food. When my mom asked me if I’d be eating with them, I curtly said no. I isolated myself in my bedroom, waiting until the mid-evening to eat my dinner while watching more Buffy episodes on Hulu again.

Eileen spent the rest of the evening with my sister and parents, down in our basement watching — you guessed it! — Fox News, once again.

Thursday, September 15

All morning, I stayed in my room. Eileen’s flight out of Chicago was in the early-evening, so she had to be on the road before noon.

She left without saying goodbye to me (and, quite frankly, that was fine with me!)

I’m still steaming over Eileen’s visit.

I knew, from limited phone calls with her in previous years, that she had really gone off-the-rails compared to the Christmas of 1996.

But I guess seeing it for myself in person just showed me how badly Eileen has devolved over a quarter-century.

It was like enduring all of the worst traits from my Grandma Eichberger…with none of the grandmotherly affection.

The worst part was that I lost several days’ worth of writing due to all the time I had to waste staying several steps ahead of Eileen based on my suspicions of what she might do or say. Family members shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around one another in this manner.

I hope I never have to see her or talk to her again.

Is that cruel of me to say?

Perhaps.

Well, that’s me!

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