Well...
My relationship with my aunt has really suffered in recent years (she is my mum's younger sister). She very much likes to think of me as 'one of the kids'. I am the second oldest grandchild on that side of the family, but my other cousins closer to my age don't tend to visit very often, so she thinks of me in the same vein as my 23yo and 11yo cousins, calling me "madam", this kind of thing - "And how are you, madam?"
Does my fecking head in.
She is extremely boastful and materialistic and as M and I have started to earn more etc, she still seems to think that the rest of us are all beneath her, and is raising her family in very much the same way. My uncle left her 8 years ago, she works full time, has a good job, my grandparents go up there every single day to pick 11yo up from school and do all her washing, cleaning, ironing etc, yet still there is this sentiment of "Our poor Jane" in the family.
Last weekend she made a comment to my mum, telling her a conversation that she had been having with my (extremely above himself for no reason 23yo cousin) whereby he had been saying, rather snottily, "So we are lower class then?" She had been saying that she didn't consider them to be lower class, and if they were lower class, what did that make my mum and dad. I was absolutely furious, and my mum was sorry that she had told me, in that her and my dad think that she is completely ridiculous, and it's just like water off a duck's back to them. I was not so blase about it. So I was already cross with her before I arrived yesterday, in truth. Jane is from exactly the same stock as my mum, and her Hyacinth Bucket tendencies are delusional.
It started with my nan yesterday. She asked me what had happened with the midwife and I told her I have SPD and have been referred for physio. She said, "Oh, they'll always invent something, now our Poor Jane, blah blah..." I felt completely dismissed.
Anyhoo, our poor Jane's lights all then tripped out, and my dad actually had to come home from work to fix the electrics. She waltzed in an hour later, no thanks or anything for my dad, and did her usual, "And how are you, madam?" Again, I relayed the SPD story, and she said, "But what do you think of my new porch?"
I just completely blew my top. Said I was sick to death of hearing everyone's bloody sob stories when no one gives a sh*t about me or how I'm feeling.
Phew, glad I got that off my chest.