Stacy Part II

Kristy, the rightful baby of the family, moved out about 2 years ago. Last Fall, she moved back home amidst much personal turmoil.

In the intervening time, we had (with Kristy's permission) given her old room to my niece, Vicky, who has stayed with us 5 nights a week over the last school year. During this whole time, Stacy's old room sat empty as a shrine to her, full of her cast-off paintings (she's an artist) and cast-off clothing (she's a clothes horse). When Kristy moved home, she got Stacy's old room.

Sort of.

One weekend following Kristy's return, we attempted to move Stacy's stuff out of her old room; we packed it all in boxes and when Stacy came home, asked her to go through it, take what she wanted to back to her own apartment, and the rest we would store in the basement. Notice that at no point did we say we would toss her shit onto the street or give it to the Salvation Army.

Still, as soon as Stacy was faced with having to clean out her old room, she burst into hysterical, gasping sobs at "being thrown out" of her room. How could we do this to her? she cried. My mom, as usual, rushed to comfort her. Kristy's feelings at not having a room in her own home while Stacy had a whole apartment of her own were ignored. My Aunt Mary, who was witness to the whole commotion, commented to me something along the lines of, "Boy, I guess if Stacy gets upset enough she gets what she wants."

Which is Stacy in a nutshell.

So now nine months later, Stacy's shit still isn't moved out of Kristy's room, and every time Stacy comes home to visit, Kristy gets booted so Stacy can have "her room" back. Whenever Kristy makes a comment like, "I'll go put this in my room," Stacy says, "You mean my room." Kristy confided in me over this last weekend how much all this bothers her, and I have to say I understand.

So Stacy came home today for the next few days with her boyfriend. Kristy got bumped to Vicky's room (Kristy's old room), and Vicky got bumped to the living room. Vicky gave Kristy trouble about being pushed out of "her room," which upset Kristy since she of course has been feeling like she doesn't even have a room. So Kristy called my mom and I in to mediate this dispute, at which point Stacy popped in. Here was Kristy upset at not having a place in the house that belonged to her, here was Vicky upset at feeling that she was losing her own space, and here was Stacy not upset in the least, looking on with no clue that she was the cause of all this when you get right down to it.

So I said so.

I said that Vicky had every right to feel upset about having to stay in the living room, that Kristy had every right to feel that she didn't have a place in this house, and that Stacy didn't help matters by refusing to move her crap out of the room and insisting that it was still "her room."

That went over like a lead balloon.

Crying ensued everywhere. Vicky cried louder; Kristy, who had been doing her best to not cry, began bawling. Stacy didn't immediately cry. First she denied, at which point I pointed out that she threw a fit when we asked her initially to remove her shit. She denied again. I replied that even our Aunt Mary had commented on the fit she threw. So then Stacy cried and ran away. My mom cried and ran after Kristy to yell at her to stop crying. She cried that Kristy and I were upsetting Stacy. Who cares if Kristy is legitimately upset? Stacy cannot be upset. Kristy ran out of the house. Mom followed. Vicky started crying because she didn't mean to upset everyone.

I stood in the middle, not crying, wondering which of these four girls to try to calm first. It was a mess and in the end I was crying too. I feel like this is getting long so I'll stop here and pick up again tomorrow.