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Erie, Pa.,
Sunday, Dec. 3, '39.
This was a day of a terrific flare-up with Mother. Willie took the children to the movies in the afternoon, and that left Mother and me alone together and I told myself it was only a matter of minutes before some discussion would start - but it didn't. I read and Mother read and finally she went into her room, I supposed to rest. In a few minutes however, she came back out and started telling me how she was invited to the Luther's last night to a bridge party (called off because Tony was ill) but of course she refused because she can't play well enough. That always starts trouble - if I agree she isn't good enough, it is a slam at her (and not true, because she is) and if I disagree, it means an argument. So the old argument got going - I have heard it all a hundred times. From that it went into questions about my economic condition because I had dropped a remark about not having money to buy a new radio. That went on. Then it shifted to the fertile field of the children's faults, particularly Bab, who has behaved badly lately. That went on and on, Mother telling me over and over things I knew as well as she did, suggestions criticism, condemnation, on and on until I thought I would go wild. I guess I finally showed my agitation and Mother blew up, slammed out of the room and into hers, later claimed she had to leave - couldn't stay here any longer! so on and so on. So all in all it was rather unpleasant. Not long after it, I began to get a sore throat for no apparent reason.