So, Internets. I made it. I survived the worst day of my life. And you will probably be shocked to learn that it wasn't that bad (I know, flair for tha dramz). I mean, I absolutly wanted to kill myself on several occasions, but managed to struggle through (of course with help from my friend, Miller Lite). So let me tell you more about my adventure.
When we last left off, I was en route to Crazytown...
We arrive right around noon. Doors to the Hubs parents house were locked.
Now, hold up one second, I have to preface this part. The in-laws have two homes. The first home is the home filled with pets (seriously, lots of pets), and is where they live. About 15 or 20 years ago, MIL's mother passed away, leaving her house to MIL. They don't live in this house, they just go over for "entertaining", aka, when we come over. The second house is about 10 minutes from the first house, and is furnished with all the same items MIL's mother had in there. They don't live in this second house (which is in a totally chi-chi neighborhood and worth about a bazillion dollars, but due to neglect, the house is falling to shit), so all the dust and dirt that accumulates from just existing doesn't ever get the normal cleaning, dusting or vacuming. Gross. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I have never (in the 6 years I have been with the Hubs) been to the first house. Only the second, disgusting house. (Although, House #1 harbors all the MIL and SIL's animals - that can be a whole separate post - and I can imagine that is also a disgusting house).
So, we arrive, doors are locked. Ring door bell. Nada. Hubs goes around back, and gets FIL to let him in. He comes around to the front and lets me in. Just FIL is there, preparing the Thanksgiving meal. We say hello and hug, then migrate to the downstairs bar area of the house where we hang out. This house has more than one formal living room, but we hang out downstairs. There is a bar, with three rickety (need I also mention uncomfortable) stools, one rocking chair, and a big screen projection TV. Yea. No sofa, or other reasonable seating. So we sit/stand down there, watching the Sunday pregame shows. FIL goes back up stairs to finish cooking.
During this time, I manage to read the news paper, get halfway through a soduku puzzle (it was level 5, people!), watch the first quarter of a football game, and polish off half of our 12-pack with help from the Hubs. (There was something else we did to pass the time - It was a long extended time we were hanging out by ourselves, and the Hubs and I had to keep ourselves busy for a little bit. I'll leave it up to your imaginination what we did to occupy ourselves.) FIL finally comes downstairs, and informs us that he will be going to House #1 to go pick up MIL and SIL. Ok. Off he goes. At this point, I mention how thrilled I am to the Hubs that we came to visit. Since we're so busy actually visiting everyone.
At around half time, FIL shows up, along with MIL and SIL, and their little dog, too. This is the little dog. I was having trouble (1) making it stay still for a picture, and (2) getting something to show the scale without frightening the dog. Take my word for it, the dog is 8 pounds, or something ridiculous like that, and you can't see it's face. The dog doesn't really venture off the couch, I would imagine because it can't see shit. And also probably because it's embarassed as fuck wearing that pink crocheted sweater.
At this point, we spend some time catching up, discussing this or that. SIL has lost some weight, 95 pounds, to be exact (but, not to be mean, she is still a very big girl). Both the Hubs and I commend her on this accomplishment. She does upstairs to work on her trademark fruit salad. FIL is balancing his time from completing the cooking upstairs, and football watching downstairs. So most of the time, we're left with MIL.
I also forgot to mention that my MIL and FIL are part of the extremely small group of people that still smoke in their homes. Not that there's anything wrong with it. But, ugh, gross. Add in the dirt factor at this residence, and it's unreal. The ventilation in this house is practically non-existent, and it was built in the 1940s or 50s, when people were undoubtedly smaller, so the ceilings are very low. There is literally smog in the air. My eyeballs were so dry, they actually tried to jump out of the sockets and into my beer.
My MIL takes this opportunity to not ask about her son, or his wife, not ask about our house, not ask about our dogs, or anything going on in our lives, but to tell us extensively of her upcoming root canal and how she has to visit dentists galore. How she beleives they are all crooks, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if her theory was based in the assumption that the dentists were planning on planting a chip in her brain. She goes on and on and on, and I sit there, wanting to kill myself, a little more, each and every moment.
She shows us the princess hat they made the dog wear for Halloween. (That poor dog - animal cruelty, right?) Talks about the trick-or-treaters they had. Again with the teeth. Et cetera, et cetera. I think you get the point.
At some point, the cooking is done upstairs, and FIL and SIL eventually join us in the dungeon downstairs, for more chatting and catching up.
Now, I try not to talk too in depth to MIL. She is kind of hateful and incredibly ignorant. I have tried to talk to her before, but sometimes, one of those danger topics will come up (religion, politics, you know), and she'll spew off her opinions. Which, are just ridiculous. Somehow, we started talking about California, and all kinds of racial, ethnic, and homophobic slurs just came pouring out of her mouth. She is a conservative, obviously, and as I am as well, I still think a line needs to be drawn and tolerance is a good thing. Her, not so much. Then she starts going on and on about the California TV energy law. She gets all up in arms about how it's not fair the government can march into your house and take your TV away from you, and blah blah blah. I started to explain to her that the law just meant they would no longer be selling inefficient TVs, and should you already own one, you would be grandfathered in, and not required to get rid of your TV. But it was exhausting, and she still didn't get it. So at some point, I finally agreed that California is crap and full of liberal homosexuals. Now, I don't beleive that for one minute, but I am telling you, it's much easier than fighting. Especially when you know the cheese is totall falling off her cracker.
Obviously, when this while this whole discussion was taking place, and I was trying to explain that California is not the demon state, I mentioned that the Hubs and I are making efforts to move to a more organic lifestyle and limit our own impact on the environment. Of course I get the "are-you-freaking-kidding-me" look, followed by the "have-they-become-liberal-homosexuals" side glances. I have become a little passionate about the subject, and I broke my own rule about not talking to the in-laws about anything different or unconventional, and mentioned how we started using organic health and beauty products. Then, SIL turns to me. She says, "KP, you always look nice, and have good advice, so I was wondering if I could ask you a question about that." Well, now that I feel like complete shit, and have bad mouthed my husband's family, and you just told me I look nice, I sheepishly told her yes.
SIL: "You know toe fungus, right? I seem to have on my finger right here (shoves finger in my face) and I don't know what to do."
Me: BLANK STARE, glance over to Hubs
Hubs: Look of shock and embarassment, accompanied with an exaggerated eye roll.
SIL: "So, what do you think I should do?"
Hubs, before I can answer: "I think you should talk to a dermatologist, and this is disgusting. If you could never bring this up to either of us again, that would be great."
SIL, getting noticably irate that I haven't answered, and Hubs did instead: "I HAVE ASKED THE DERMATOLOGIST, she recommended something, but it will take FOUR TO SIX WEEKS TO HEAL. I WANT TO HEAR KP'S ADVICE IF THERE'S ANYTHING ELSE I SHOULD TRY."
Me, trying to diffuse the situation: "Have you tried Googling remedies, or natural remedies? I have not had this problem, and if it were me, I would try a natural approach before I decided to try a chemical cream or something else."
At this point, it started to escalate, because I don't think SIL liked what I had to say about her fungus. Hubs again asked her never to bring this up, as it was a disgusting topic, and it kind of died down a little bit. I tried to keep my trap shut for the rest of the evening about anything, because there is no purpose in getting worked up around these people.
The whole time this coversation is going on, all I can keep thinking about is - SHE WAS JUST UPSTAIRS MAKING FOOD. FOOD WITH FUNGUS ON HER HANDS. OMG, I AM GOING TO DIE EATING THIS THANKSGIVING MEAL. THANKS FOR THE FUNGUS, EW.
I am reminded of a quote I heard once - Do not argue with idiots. They drag you down to their level, and beat you with experience. So true in this case.
We are busy watching the football game this whole time, trying to keep up between random irrelevant stories chit chat. MIL shouts and ask constant questions about the football game. She had both FIL raising his voice towards the end of the game. This was impressive. Usually there is an all out, balls to the wall screaming match every time I'm there. No such luck this time. We only hit about 8 on the volume scale. I was hoping to catch a yelling fit to tell you about.
Eventually, we make our way upstairs, and sit down for dinner. Remember how I told you this house was inherited by MIL, and everything actually belonged to the Hubs grandmother? Well, they haven't decorated (or cleaned) since they got the house, and it's just a wee bit dated and creepy. For example, here is the collection of tiny chairs. They sit on the fireplace hearth, hang from the walls, they're everywhere. It's strange. Really, it is.
Then there's also this. It's the grow corner. There isn't even anything GOOD growing over there! They have a whole set up with grow lights and plants. It's just strange that they have this at a house where they only come occasionally. I can see this in House #1, where you actually live and sleep. But at your "entertaining" house? WEIRD. It also helps to add to the mess - both actual dirt/dust accumulation, and general CRAP that is everywhere else. Please also note the awesome wood paneling, which is located in about 60% of the home. In need of a SERIOUS update, my friends.
Speaking of CRAP that is everywhere, I am also obligated to show this to you. This, my dear Internets, is a stack of calendars. OLD calendars. Dating back to at least 2004. There was more than just one calendar per year - 3 for just 2007 alone. I started to flip through them - there is nothing written in them - but MIL come up and started explaining how they were worth hundreds of dollars on eBay (riiiiiiight). I instantly regretted touching them at all. Can you imagine my disbelief when I turned around, and there was another whole stack of old calendars on the countertop? WHY DO YOU NEED THESE? We have a hoarder, my friends. And it's gross.
Dinner was decent. SIL actually made her fruit salad with latex gloves, so that was kind of a relief - no fungus in my food, thank you. The food was ok, better than it has been in the past, thank goodness. And, the silver was actually polished this time around - usually it's all dingy and dirty with tarnish. There was turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, candied yams with pineapple, green beans, and stuffing. Thankfully this year, there was no oyster stuffing - oysters are one of the things I will NOT eat, which is surprising, since I eat almost everything else. The dinner conversation was boring. Someone started talking about horses, and when asked, instead of lying, I mentioned how I do not care for horses. Another amature mistake. Much shock and disbelief was to be had.
Discussion about Christmas Eve came up, and Hubs had invited them for dinner. He also said I was interested in making a Turducken for dinner. Well, when MIL found out it contains a duck, she was absolutely disgusted. They own or used to own ducks. As pets. Of course she goes on and on about how that's just awful, and she would NEVER have any, and blah BLAH BLAH. I stoped listening. I am making duck for sure now.
Since FIL cooks the meal, immediately after HE is done (doesn't matter if everyone else is eating still or chatting), he heads downstairs to light up again. I help SIL and MIL clean the kitchen, Hubs helps. It's like him and I are the only ones doing anything, but whatever. SIL also tries to send us home with Oysters Rockafeller - to which I politely declined. I suggested that seafood might not hold up well without being refrigerated during the 2 hour drive home. Plus, it's SEAFOOD. UNREFIRGERATED. Clearly that was a wrong answer, and I have offended, again.
Now, this was my favorite part of the evening. Hubs and I held a small huddle in the foyer downstairs to plot our esape. While we were standing there plotting, we noticed all the other random CRAP just around. For example, the display of holiday nutcrakers that sit there year round. Then we found this gem:
Correct me if I am wrong - but is this a marble statule of a guy PICKING HIS FOOT?!?! WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU EVER OWN THIS? And even if it was a gift, WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU EVER DISPLAY IT?!?! And it's a big statue too. Probably about 18" tall. And on a pedestal. And HOW HAVE I NEVER NOTICED IT BEFORE? Holy hideousness, Batman. There are just no words.
So, back to the title of my post. Much to my surprise, MIL never mentioned or asked about the doctor's appointment yesterday morning. I was waiting for it, standing at the edge of Crazy ready to jump right in, but it never game. She did mention babies an uncomfortable number of times, including talking about how her tooth pain was worse than childbirth, you know what I mean? NO, I DO NOT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. But, she never mentioned the appointment, or our whole letter writing thing. And now, unfortunately, the Hubs was right, and I owe him $100. Boo.
After the visit with the parents, we went to visit friends for a few short hours, where I was on guard for the whole time. It was nice to see everyone (another couple was there as well), and yes, we finally got to meet the baby. I didn't hold or really interact with the kid, for fear of an emotional breakdown (it was a very emotionall exhausting day already). It was a decent visit, until, at one point, we were all sitting around, watching a movie. Actually, we weren't even watching the movie, Mr. Friend was fast forwarding an action flick to the "good" parts. I could have done with out that. After such a long day, it would have been nice to just get on the road and go home, and watch TV in my own bed, rather than on someone elses couch.
So there you go. That was my day in hell. I survived, but I will completely attribute that to (1) a secret, and (2) lots of Miller Lite. I am sure you were hoping for juicier details, but that's all I got.
DO NOT FEAR. Remember, the Hubs invited his family over for Christmas Eve Dinner. We're a little more than a month out from the next disaster.
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