Tuesday, April 18, 2006
So that story about my father in law
Conversations can be free-flowing at times, but at others, it can be stale. This weekend was not one of those stellar conversation visits.
Here are some observations about my inlaws:
1. They come to see their son; seeing the grandkids is a bonus, sometimes. They never come to see their daughter in law. And really, why?
2. They can take the kids in bits and pieces. They can't be around them more than 8 hours at a time. My FIL HAS to take a nap in the middle of the day. I call it an excuse. Yes, he had open heart surgery about four or five years ago due to a massive heart attack. But then, this is the man who will make 2-3 trips up and down 100+ stairs built into a hillside. It is all about priorities, people.
3. They have never really liked me. They tolerate me, and I, them. It is a relationship of co-existence, really. We have had our bouts of screaming matches on the phone. We have fought over the STUPIDEST things, and there have been times when I would just like to have left that relationship in the dust.
4. No matter how hard I try, they get under my skin. Case in point:
We are out to eat Sunday for Easter. Nice little get together at a local establishment. Hardware Man (nah... not gonna stick with that one) used to play saxophone. Ask his parents. They have at LEAST 5 different photo albums with at least 100 pics a piece of HM playing on at least EVERY SINGLE piece of grass on his HS football team's field. And hence the conversation:
FIL: Hey... have you gotten out your sax (he had asked his parents to bring it one visit because he HAD to have it for some reason or another)?
HM: Some, but not a lot.
FIL: Have you thought about playing in your church's band?
HM: No ... there are too many people playing sax as it is, and that didn't even include the Worship Arts pastor.
FIL: Well, I just figured ... since she's up there doing HER thing (that would be ME he is talking about), I just thought it would be nice that you could get up there and do YOUR thing. You've been busy corraling the kids; let them corral themselves.
Nice. Right there in front of my kids. He considers a man taking care of his OWN children, HIS grandchildren, to be "corraling" them. AND he thinks that because I have this ONE thing that I do on my own that poor pitiful HM is having to deal with the kids, and he gets to do NOTHING.
Whattheeffever. HM was asked to usher; he said no. He has been asked, repeatedly, to join the choir. He has said no. HM does damn well whatever he pleases, and then it looks like I am some sort of pushy bitch who gets her way constantly because POOR HM ... he can't do what he wants to do in church.
Bull shit.
Nice Christian attitude, huh?
posted by Knitting Maniac at 1:17 PM
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.
The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.
The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.
The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.
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