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For years I have dreaded holidays with a passion because it meant a trip to my husband's parents' house. His Mom passed a little over a year ago, and frankly, she was what kept that whole mess on the rails.
Hubby has one sister that pretends to be a spacey woman who blames EVERYTHING on her menstrual cycle, while in reality she is just a malevolent bitch. She is the one that last year told my 13 year old that I'm a witch, in spite of the fact that I have explained to her more than once that I have wanted my daughter to choose her own path in life, and that when I thought the time was right I'd tell her about that aspect of my life. Nuff said about her, I'd be happy if she'd just STFU most of the time.
My FIL is an absolute freak show that wants to argue about everything under the sun and control every aspect of life for his family--down to his demands that all pies be cut a specific way (Because it is the RIGHT way to cut them WHATEVER the hell that means...) Over the years, most of his demands have been easy enough to accommodate without causing a scene, so I just rolled with it. I'd squeegee the shower in the bathroom because it is what he asked us to do, and we'd all not use the hall bathroom at night because he could hear it. We'd walk to the extreme other end of the house in the freaking dark (because nightlights cost too much) and go potty at 3 am just to keep the peace.
Since my MIL died he has become increasingly out of control to the point that he's become actively abrasive with me. If it isn't that I used the wrong cookie sheet to put under a casserole dish, it is that he feels I am incapable of using the ice dispenser in the refrigerator door.
Last trip down he subjected me to a lecture about the "smell of poo-poo in the hallway" because he feels I do not use the bathroom exhaust fan correctly (WTF is the correct way to use a fart fan beside turn it on??) I left that house so incredibly offended I still can't talk about it without getting pissed off all over again. I think what makes it all so beyond control is the fact that when he was lecturing me about that stupid bathroom fan I had the feeling he was really grooving on it--like it gave him some kind of perverse pleasure. I still want to vomit when I think about it. I can't imagine EVER talking to anyone like that--let alone a guest in my home! This was so far beyond the pale I'm still scratching my head, and I'm not sure I'm ever gonna be able to go into that house and not take a case of Glade!
My husband is a good guy, and most of the time I feel like I am a very lucky woman when it comes to the husband lottery. However, this particular issue has been nothing but a huge problem in our marriage all these years. When I'd talk to him about his sister or his father the famous line was always, "that is just how _______ is." The meta message that I took from those discussions was always 'you need to just deal with it...'
Well, after the "poo poo" lecture last time, I heard "that is just how ________ is," ONE freaking time too many. I declared my independence from his family and announced that this is just how I am, and I'll be back to visit that family when monkeys fly out my ass...
I have spent the last couple days sleeping late, hanging with my mom, shopping, eating out--generally doing what I wanted to do without anyone trying to criticize my child-rearing, my cooking, or my ability to use a freaking bathroom fan. When I get up at night to go potty I am not hiking the length of the house in the dark, and best of all, I have not been angry or hiding in the bedroom this entire weekend!
Who KNEW? WHO FREAKING KNEW????
Wow.
Laura
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