So, our plan was to keep them in the truck as long as humanly possible so they couldn't bicker about things. That was our first mistake.
11:30am off we go to Starbucks because we both needed a latte to wake up. Of course, there was yet another discussion about the collectible starbucks bears, and the purchase of more collectible starbucks bears, and how they use to have a label sewn near the bottom, but now they put a little patch on their feet... kill me.
To the camera store, hubby decided to get a digital SLR camera, which earlier had prompted B to "talk" to me about his concerns about said camera, and how he wanted to plop down $200 toward the new camera, yadda yadda, whatever. Of course, the camera he wanted was THE MOST wanted camera out there, and they didn't have it. To Best Buy in Laurel, they didn't have it, but they had a version of it in Columbia, but we had to go to Glen Burnie, where they didn't have it. Drove to Annapolis Mall, where they had a demo of it, but it had a scratch on the lens. I ran off to buy my bag and boots. M pouted because "us girls" didn't go off shopping.
They announced they were hungry, but couldn't come up with what they were hungry for, so we suggested the food court, since there was a wide variety of foods there. We start walking down to the food court (about 10 miles away). As we walked ahead of them (they insist that we walk ahead of them), we softly threaten violence on them because they lag about 20 feet behind us at all times. If we slow down, they slow down, if we stop, they stop. Sometimes they stop or go into a store, we don't realize it, they've disappeared, we have to go back and find them and they scurry out of the store and apologize. Once again we start walking, they start lagging... it's maddening. For people "who just want to spend some time with us" why the F are they walking 20 feet behind us?
We finally get to the food court, and we decide to get Arbys. We go up to order, and there they are right behind us, looking at the Arby menu, arguing over the type of salad, asking the counter people if they can get a pre-made salad without some things (no, they are pre-made, that's what you get), upset because Arby's doesn't have a particular soda, wanted a sandwich on a bun type they don't carry... WHY EAT THERE THEN????? They proceeded to complain about the food while we ate.
It took us 4 hours to make the slow death march back to the truck. Off to another camera store, where we finally find the camera and all the stuff hubby wanted. FINE!!!! As we're paying for it, B starts having a royal snit because he wants to pay his $200 bucks toward the purchase, and literally starts yelling at us about allowing him the courtesy of giving us a gift. There's nothing that says gift like a good berating. This was after the "talk" he had with me about how he had no idea where hubby gets his quick temper from... gee, I don't know.
By now, its 4pm, the dogs have been locked up all day, so we decide to go back home to let them out for a bit and feed them. We still hadn't copied the 6,000 pieces and bits of paper that B brought for hubby to copy, so we decide to do that after the dogs have been let out and fed. So, as we're driving home, M starts asking us about the navigation system in the 4-runner. Does the nav system work just in our area or nationwide (nationwide), do we pay a monthly fee for it (no), how does it work (we explain), how is it different from Onstar? (we explain), do you have to pay a fee for Onstar (yes), does that mean they can raise the fee for onstar? (don't know), well, what's the difference between our system and onstar (we don't know a whole lot about onstar, because we don't have onstar), well if one would get onstar, is their navigation system nationwide? (don't know), do you think onstar would be a good thing to have (don't know), what cars do they put onstar in? (don't know, WE DON'T KNOW!!!!!).
Get home, and because we didn't know everything there was to know about Onstar, M goes into the guest room to pout while hubby goes through the camera stuff with B, I go off to hide, play with the dogs, etc.
Around 7pm, we decided we need to go out and get the stupid papers copied. Off we go to Kinkos, get some copier cards and start to copy all the crap. M and I pair off while B and hubby take another pile. M stands there criticizing all of the "crap" B has brought, and "you would think that his parents were the king and queen of England for all the hoopla he makes over them", blah, blah, blah. As we're copying some documents, B reads aloud (very aloud) "hey look, here's a notation where my great, great, great whatever owned and sold slaves!" Oh lovely.
Then their phone rings, M answers it and is yelling in the phone (for everyone at Kinkos to hear). "What? Our flight is cancelled?" I have a total meltdown, nearly crumble into a heap at the base of the copy machine. Turns out that their flight was booked too full, so they were putting them on an EARLIER flight WOOOOHOOOO, instead of 11am, they were leaving at 10am. thank gawd!
So, after an hour and a half of sniping, rude remarks, and other drama, we get all the papers copied and ask them if they are hungry. Yes, they are hungry. Where do you want to eat? Wherever we want to eat. For the love of... FINE, we head for Baja Fresh. They are closed (its now 9pm). B spots the Golden Corral (oh for the love of...) FINE, so off to Golden Corral we go. As we pass the mall, M asks about the Medievel Times place (NOOOOOOOOO they're closed), what do they do there, is that a dinner theater? We don't know. Do they have plays there? We don't know. Do you dress up and have dinner there? WE DON'T KNOW!!!!
Get into Golden Corral and B demands that he pay for it (gladly, I'm not paying for this swill), M literally screams WE GET THE SENIOR DISCOUNT to the poor cashier. We get our trays and proceed to select from the scads of food that has probably been sitting out all day. Mind you, its a buffet, yet M gets a whole bunch of stuff, B gets his stuff, then M starts unloading half of her stuff onto B's plate. Why? don't know. The "waitress" brings some rolls, I ask if they have honey in them (allergic), she says no, but the butter pats do. Ok, don't eat the butter pats. B offers to find me non-honey butter. No thanks. I can get you some, I'll go find it. Why don't you just sit down and eat, I don't want butter. I can ask if they have non-honey butter. No, really, don't need it. He gets up, whatever.
M declares that the chicken is delicious, I say that I think its a bit dry, she stops eating her chicken and pouts. She finishes everything but the chicken, then asks B if he wants to share dessert with her. No, he'll go find his own dessert. She stomps off furious now. She comes back with a variety of stuff, and complains about all of it. During this whole time, if one of them leaves, the other would bitch about the one that was gone. B complaining that he makes M mad all the time, M complaining that B never listens to her.
By now its like 10pm and we go home. M stomps off to the guestroom while B and hubby test out the new camera and talk. M pokes her head out every once in a while, peeved that B isn't helping her pack. B decides that midnight is the time for the son and dad talk (which he had 5 freakin days to do), hubby finally breaks away and runs to bed, where we lay and vent for a good hour.
Breakfast and the Airport 9/28/2005
O dark thirty, we can hear them up and getting ready to leave and mumbling. We hide until the last minute. We told them we'd get up early, go to breakfast and get them to the airport in time to go through security.
As an appeasement thing, hubby asks me very nicely if I would wear the gawd-awful shirt she "embroidered", he would wear his too. Oh... my... gawd. FINE. A quick note on that:
1.) If she sat there for hours with thread and needle and did it, I would appreciate the effort (as long as she didn't constantly bring up the blood, sweat and tears it took), but come on. She bought a really expensive sewing machine, that hooks up to a computer, that uses a software program to automatically whip out the design. She's taken up sweat shop as a hobby apparently. There's no thought (other than picking out the software and thread it requires) she just sits and watches this thing whip up a design.
2.) She put them on denim shirts. Hubby's shirt makes him look like a prison bitch (you can call me Vicki), complete with a cute husky head on the pocket. We both look like pathetic 70 year olds.
So, we come out with our stupid shirts on, and M is so pleased. So pleased in fact that she starts on the "take a picture of them in their shirts B, take a picture, don't forget to take a picture, look at them in the shirts, we need to have a picture of that.".
We get out to the car, its pitch black out, and B wants to take a picture of us in the shirts. He takes one, its too dark, starts to take another, and in my lack of coffee, freayed nerves mood, I suggest we wait til the freakin sun comes up before we pose again. M pouts.
To Bob Evans near where I work. As we walk to the door I'm begging and pleading in my head that none of my co-workers have showed up for breakfast and see us wearing these asinine shirts. We order breakfast and wait a zillion years for it to arrive. Meanwhile we endure endless prattling from M, who we alternately piss off and please depending on her bi-polar mood that second.
Breakfast over, we drive to the airport. We park, endure the long ass walk to the check in area. They don't walk on the moving walkways, they just stand there. We crawl along the moving walkway at a snail's pace. The inner keeing in my head is raging.
We stroll over to the Delta check in, and hubby asks if they need to stand in line, or do they need to go to the automatic kiosk place. They stand there and argue among themselves and ignore him, so I pull hubby to the side to let them figure it out. So, they have two rolling bags, two carry on bags. Hubby had one roll on bag and carry on bag, B had the other roll bag and M had her bag. She just up and leaves all of the bags and gets in line, leaving B to handle two roll bags and a big carry bag. Hubby goes over and helps M get in line, meanwhile people have lined up behind M. Hubby tells M, come back here with B. She says "oh, no thanks, I'm fine". He yells at her to get back in the line with B, which causes a huge pout event. Hubby gets out of line and stands away with me, looking like escaped convicts from an embroidary prison.
They stand in line for 10 minutes, then are told to go to the kiosk. Ugh, we follow them over and they fiddle with the kiosk and get checked in. Now is that uncomfortable time where we want to bail as quickly as possible without making them feel like we're dumping them as quickly as possible, so we suggest walking toward their security check point and check out some of the interesting bookstores and coffee shops.
We make small talk "ooh, look at this book" "yes, a book" silence. "Here's an interesting book" "yes". "gee, look at the time, you have 2 hours to get through security, you'd better go before it gets busy". No line at security. We do the obligatory hugs goodbye (limp, cold hug from M, tearful I'm going to die and never see you again hug from B), we watch them gather their ID, tickets, bags and crawl through the security line. Wait until they make it through security and wave for the last time, wait a little longer just in case... then RUN back to the truck, start chainsmoking and praying our cell phones don't ring.
We're home, we're alone, we're alive, we're so stressed out we both decide we can't go back to work today, we just want to be left ALONE!!!!
Of course, in the guest room, they left all sorts of heirlooms (albums of pictures, books we'll never read, stamp collections) with a snippy note from M "we didn't get a chance to go through all of this with you (YOU HAD 5 FREAKIN DAYS), so just throw away what you want. Except for the photo albums, we did.
As an appeasement thing, hubby asks me very nicely if I would wear the gawd-awful shirt she "embroidered", he would wear his too. Oh... my... gawd. FINE. A quick note on that:
1.) If she sat there for hours with thread and needle and did it, I would appreciate the effort (as long as she didn't constantly bring up the blood, sweat and tears it took), but come on. She bought a really expensive sewing machine, that hooks up to a computer, that uses a software program to automatically whip out the design. She's taken up sweat shop as a hobby apparently. There's no thought (other than picking out the software and thread it requires) she just sits and watches this thing whip up a design.
2.) She put them on denim shirts. Hubby's shirt makes him look like a prison bitch (you can call me Vicki), complete with a cute husky head on the pocket. We both look like pathetic 70 year olds.
So, we come out with our stupid shirts on, and M is so pleased. So pleased in fact that she starts on the "take a picture of them in their shirts B, take a picture, don't forget to take a picture, look at them in the shirts, we need to have a picture of that.".
We get out to the car, its pitch black out, and B wants to take a picture of us in the shirts. He takes one, its too dark, starts to take another, and in my lack of coffee, freayed nerves mood, I suggest we wait til the freakin sun comes up before we pose again. M pouts.
To Bob Evans near where I work. As we walk to the door I'm begging and pleading in my head that none of my co-workers have showed up for breakfast and see us wearing these asinine shirts. We order breakfast and wait a zillion years for it to arrive. Meanwhile we endure endless prattling from M, who we alternately piss off and please depending on her bi-polar mood that second.
Breakfast over, we drive to the airport. We park, endure the long ass walk to the check in area. They don't walk on the moving walkways, they just stand there. We crawl along the moving walkway at a snail's pace. The inner keeing in my head is raging.
We stroll over to the Delta check in, and hubby asks if they need to stand in line, or do they need to go to the automatic kiosk place. They stand there and argue among themselves and ignore him, so I pull hubby to the side to let them figure it out. So, they have two rolling bags, two carry on bags. Hubby had one roll on bag and carry on bag, B had the other roll bag and M had her bag. She just up and leaves all of the bags and gets in line, leaving B to handle two roll bags and a big carry bag. Hubby goes over and helps M get in line, meanwhile people have lined up behind M. Hubby tells M, come back here with B. She says "oh, no thanks, I'm fine". He yells at her to get back in the line with B, which causes a huge pout event. Hubby gets out of line and stands away with me, looking like escaped convicts from an embroidary prison.
They stand in line for 10 minutes, then are told to go to the kiosk. Ugh, we follow them over and they fiddle with the kiosk and get checked in. Now is that uncomfortable time where we want to bail as quickly as possible without making them feel like we're dumping them as quickly as possible, so we suggest walking toward their security check point and check out some of the interesting bookstores and coffee shops.
We make small talk "ooh, look at this book" "yes, a book" silence. "Here's an interesting book" "yes". "gee, look at the time, you have 2 hours to get through security, you'd better go before it gets busy". No line at security. We do the obligatory hugs goodbye (limp, cold hug from M, tearful I'm going to die and never see you again hug from B), we watch them gather their ID, tickets, bags and crawl through the security line. Wait until they make it through security and wave for the last time, wait a little longer just in case... then RUN back to the truck, start chainsmoking and praying our cell phones don't ring.
We're home, we're alone, we're alive, we're so stressed out we both decide we can't go back to work today, we just want to be left ALONE!!!!
Of course, in the guest room, they left all sorts of heirlooms (albums of pictures, books we'll never read, stamp collections) with a snippy note from M "we didn't get a chance to go through all of this with you (YOU HAD 5 FREAKIN DAYS), so just throw away what you want. Except for the photo albums, we did.
Fridge Update 9/28/2005
Forgot the fridge update:
Opened half drunk pepsi was still in there (tossed it)
The pudding, cheese/crackers and salmon was gone, it wasn't in the trash, so I guess the week old curdled pudding, cheese and salmon went into her purse for a "snack" on the flight.
EEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUWWWWWW!!!!
Opened half drunk pepsi was still in there (tossed it)
The pudding, cheese/crackers and salmon was gone, it wasn't in the trash, so I guess the week old curdled pudding, cheese and salmon went into her purse for a "snack" on the flight.
EEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUWWWWWW!!!!
Bonzai Golf Tree 10/4/2005
Here's a little story I had flushed out of my mind while I was updating their visit. I figure the Dayquil I just took helped me remember it.
I have no idea how we got on the subject, but M asks us if we remember the little bonsai tree we got them for one of their birthdays or something.
Reaching back into the depths, and lying, we say "oh sure". Typically we go up on ftd.com and we close our eyes and point at the screen and that's what they get for special occasions. Sometimes for B we sort by "golf" junk and pick. Apparently we got them some sort of Zen Bonsai golf thing.
"Well" M starts off, "We must admit that it didn't last very long, the poor leaves started falling off it the minute we took it out of the box. Soon, the whole thing had no leaves at all, and it was such a shame, as it was a very pretty little tree"
Most people, when getting flowers or plants, when they invariably die, toss them in the trash. Oh no, not them.
"We took the little tree to the florist, and since we took pictures of it before it died, we asked the nice young lady there if she could recreate the tree from plastic stuff".
HUH? You paid someone to recreate a 20 buck bonzai tree (marked up to 80 bucks)?
"So she spent weeks gluing little plastic leaves on the tree, and got it pretty close to what it was." (You've got to be kidding me). "But then the other day we noticed that the glue wasn't holding, and those leaves are falling off again!"
Who spends money to have plastic leaves glued to a dead bonzai tree stump? Just throw the stupid thing away!!!!!
So, I'm guessing that'll be on the list of heirlooms they want us to have once they kick.
I have no idea how we got on the subject, but M asks us if we remember the little bonsai tree we got them for one of their birthdays or something.
Reaching back into the depths, and lying, we say "oh sure". Typically we go up on ftd.com and we close our eyes and point at the screen and that's what they get for special occasions. Sometimes for B we sort by "golf" junk and pick. Apparently we got them some sort of Zen Bonsai golf thing.
"Well" M starts off, "We must admit that it didn't last very long, the poor leaves started falling off it the minute we took it out of the box. Soon, the whole thing had no leaves at all, and it was such a shame, as it was a very pretty little tree"
Most people, when getting flowers or plants, when they invariably die, toss them in the trash. Oh no, not them.
"We took the little tree to the florist, and since we took pictures of it before it died, we asked the nice young lady there if she could recreate the tree from plastic stuff".
HUH? You paid someone to recreate a 20 buck bonzai tree (marked up to 80 bucks)?
"So she spent weeks gluing little plastic leaves on the tree, and got it pretty close to what it was." (You've got to be kidding me). "But then the other day we noticed that the glue wasn't holding, and those leaves are falling off again!"
Who spends money to have plastic leaves glued to a dead bonzai tree stump? Just throw the stupid thing away!!!!!
So, I'm guessing that'll be on the list of heirlooms they want us to have once they kick.
Heirloom Display 10/5/2005
The light blue denim shirt is for me. Note the husky is orange, she wanted it "redder".
The darker denim shirt is hubby's, and the husky actually looks pretty nice on it, its just that I don't know any man who would wear a denim shirt with a husky on it. Especially since he looks like he's straight out of a prison exercise yard.
Once again they've dragged x-mas ornaments (despite telling them we DON'T get a tree, we DON'T really celebrate x-mas), to the house.
They also brought a flask that one of them won at a golf tournament, that neither will use. So drag your worthless crap to our house and dump it on us then?
I'm sure the felt with our "drinking problem" that a flask would be handy.
So, this was what the question about "what do you serve your guests for food when you entertain" was all about.
That's right, she needed to pick out the right software design for her embroidary machine.
We also realized why people don't wear aprons while they cook on a grill. Hubby nearly caught this heirloom on fire a few times while cooking the infamous steak and salmon.
This apron goes really well with the embroidered prison yard shirt.
Can you say.... nope, not gonna say it.
This little goodie was hidden in the guest room with a note that we found after they left.
The note read something like "we didn't have time to get to these. Please throw them away or do with what you want."
Ok, they had 5 freakin days here, did we throw off their heirloom viewing schedule by making fresh sandwiches or something?
This bejewelled little item went right in the trash.
Baked Potato Seasoning.
Why would someone drag baked potato seasoning on a plane a zillion miles across the US?
It looks really old too.
Was this sitting in a box somewhere with our names on it. "oooh, the kids will really like this".
Was this meant for a baked potato that M had in her purse all this time, but she never got around to eating?
Is it not like we don't have stores here in the east?
baked potato seasoning?
The In-laws: We're So Screwed 12/18/2005
Yesterday hubby called his brother to ask what he was going to get the parents for their 50th wedding anniversary (which happens in a few days).
They had hinted for the past 5 years about how nice it would be for everyone to meet in Arizona to celebrate the event. When pressed for details such as: Where in Arizona. When in Arizona. How long in Arizona. They were vague or non-responsive. Kinda hard to plan an event in a state when you don't even know WHERE in the state, or WHEN in the state.
As the year got closer, personal commitments, work commitments, lack of vacation, old sick dogs made it virtually impossible to plan any travel. When they were here, we both made it very clear that we had no vacation (since we were blowing it for their visit), and that travel was out of the question because we had no vacation, no spare money to fly anywhere, and we weren't about to kennel our 16 year old sickly dog. So, when asked what they would like for their anniversary, the answer was always a curt "nothing" since M wanted us to fly to Arizona (somewhere, sometime) for this big shindig she had planned in her head.
This afternoon we get a phone call from J.
"WE'RE FUCKED, WE'RE SO TOTALLY FUCKED!"
Always a good way to start off a conversation.
Apparently J just got off the phone with M. For Christmas, M and B have invited themselves out to J's house for a week... without telling him of course. Apparently during this announcement, M "let slip" how excited she was about the big surprise the boys were planning, and how she was certain that other relatives were in on the big surprise, because when she kept asking all the relatives about the big surprise, they claimed ignorance. Um... that's because there is no big surprise.
We've planned NOTHING. We haven't even gotten them a gift. Have no idea what to give them, but apparently now, nothing short of us jumping out at J's house with every living relative there is with all sorts of presents, decorations, and hoopla all directed at M will do.
We know that in her head there is a gala event planned that includes champagne, flowers, decorations, tons of people she hasn't seen in years, a veritable "this is your life" all directed at her.
What she'll get is J and his wife, their dogs jumping on them, and nothing. We're screwed.
Hubby seems to think that this is the thing that will send her over the edge. Her heart broken because she is unloved, she'll completely lose her mind (what's left of it) and sink into the depths of depression and waste away, shrivel up and die.
We are at a complete loss over how to rectify this situation. At least we're thousands of miles away, and we do feel for J and his wife... we have to think.... sucks to be them right now.
They had hinted for the past 5 years about how nice it would be for everyone to meet in Arizona to celebrate the event. When pressed for details such as: Where in Arizona. When in Arizona. How long in Arizona. They were vague or non-responsive. Kinda hard to plan an event in a state when you don't even know WHERE in the state, or WHEN in the state.
As the year got closer, personal commitments, work commitments, lack of vacation, old sick dogs made it virtually impossible to plan any travel. When they were here, we both made it very clear that we had no vacation (since we were blowing it for their visit), and that travel was out of the question because we had no vacation, no spare money to fly anywhere, and we weren't about to kennel our 16 year old sickly dog. So, when asked what they would like for their anniversary, the answer was always a curt "nothing" since M wanted us to fly to Arizona (somewhere, sometime) for this big shindig she had planned in her head.
This afternoon we get a phone call from J.
"WE'RE FUCKED, WE'RE SO TOTALLY FUCKED!"
Always a good way to start off a conversation.
Apparently J just got off the phone with M. For Christmas, M and B have invited themselves out to J's house for a week... without telling him of course. Apparently during this announcement, M "let slip" how excited she was about the big surprise the boys were planning, and how she was certain that other relatives were in on the big surprise, because when she kept asking all the relatives about the big surprise, they claimed ignorance. Um... that's because there is no big surprise.
We've planned NOTHING. We haven't even gotten them a gift. Have no idea what to give them, but apparently now, nothing short of us jumping out at J's house with every living relative there is with all sorts of presents, decorations, and hoopla all directed at M will do.
We know that in her head there is a gala event planned that includes champagne, flowers, decorations, tons of people she hasn't seen in years, a veritable "this is your life" all directed at her.
What she'll get is J and his wife, their dogs jumping on them, and nothing. We're screwed.
Hubby seems to think that this is the thing that will send her over the edge. Her heart broken because she is unloved, she'll completely lose her mind (what's left of it) and sink into the depths of depression and waste away, shrivel up and die.
We are at a complete loss over how to rectify this situation. At least we're thousands of miles away, and we do feel for J and his wife... we have to think.... sucks to be them right now.
More Heirlooms in the mail 7/15/2006
The heirloomability has been lacking lately. I don't know if it was that talk I had with B about how we just open the box and dump stuff straight in a trash bag, might as well save your money and throw it away locally, or what.
Of course, a HUGE box arrived the other day, and inside was about $500 worth of packing peanuts and these:
It looks like a Hummel (which would have been e-bay'd immediately for money), but no, its not... according to a google search its worth about 10 bucks if you can find someone with a head injury to buy it.
Its a baby shoe. Why? Don't know. Don't care. Its in a garbage bag with the first thing.
This is one of those plant/flower holders that people buy at the hospital when they get to the hospital to visit someone and think "crap, we didn't get anything" so they buy some expensive flowers in a cheap satanic monkey vase thing.
This little piggy went "whee whee" into a garbage bag.
Of course, a HUGE box arrived the other day, and inside was about $500 worth of packing peanuts and these:
It looks like a Hummel (which would have been e-bay'd immediately for money), but no, its not... according to a google search its worth about 10 bucks if you can find someone with a head injury to buy it.
Its a baby shoe. Why? Don't know. Don't care. Its in a garbage bag with the first thing.
This is one of those plant/flower holders that people buy at the hospital when they get to the hospital to visit someone and think "crap, we didn't get anything" so they buy some expensive flowers in a cheap satanic monkey vase thing.
This little piggy went "whee whee" into a garbage bag.
J Visit Update 10/28/2006
We had such a wonderful and semi-unproductive visit from J, that I forgot to post the ghoul-pool famous person death:
Steve Irwin.
Yes, poor Steve Irwin's freakish death can be blamed on J's visit. It happens every year, and unfortunately the poor animal conservationist's bizarre death can be blamed on J's visit.
At work I had a pool going, and I have to say that I was amazed at some of the entries. I never thought that Marie Osmond garnered so much hate, but apparently she's going through some rough times and has had a few "medicine reactions" that have landed her in rehab. Whodathunkit?
Except for having to take our one dog in for a butt issue, the visit was non-eventful. No major catastrophes, no broken appliances, no strange things happening... except for Steve Irwin.
So, until the next box of heirlooms (which apparently have slowed ever since my talk with B about where they end up)... happy in-laws!
Steve Irwin.
Yes, poor Steve Irwin's freakish death can be blamed on J's visit. It happens every year, and unfortunately the poor animal conservationist's bizarre death can be blamed on J's visit.
At work I had a pool going, and I have to say that I was amazed at some of the entries. I never thought that Marie Osmond garnered so much hate, but apparently she's going through some rough times and has had a few "medicine reactions" that have landed her in rehab. Whodathunkit?
Except for having to take our one dog in for a butt issue, the visit was non-eventful. No major catastrophes, no broken appliances, no strange things happening... except for Steve Irwin.
So, until the next box of heirlooms (which apparently have slowed ever since my talk with B about where they end up)... happy in-laws!
They're coming baaaaack! 6/17/2007
Hubby came down to talk to me as I was outside brushing our dog. For some odd reason he didn’t want to actually come outside with me, preferring to hide behind the screen door, for reasons that soon became very apparent.
He had asked me what “we” had sent to his father for Father’s day.
“A decorative and collectable tape dispenser in the shape of a golf bag with clubs” I announce. Its my mission to find the strangest things to send to B and M for their anniversaries, birthdays and other special events. I figure that we’ll be “willed” all of this crap when they finally kick, so why not make it interesting. Nothing could compare to the last gift I sent to B, it was a classic: A tin that contained cookies and teas that was in the shape of a dog... complete with metal dog balls. Classic. We got a tickled phone call from B after he got that one. I think he gets it, M is totally clueless.
Anyway, so I’m brushing the dog when hubby announcing that he and J will be going in together to get their father a digital camera. B has wanted one since their last visit when hubby bought one (and B threw the fit because he wanted to help buy it). I figured as much when I sent the gawdy and cheap tape dispenser. He also mentioned something about doing something nice for M when they were here this fall.
Excuse me?
Hubby begins talking quickly and backing away from the screen door, no doubt envisioning me beating him with the rather sharp grooming rake in my hand. “Well, if we get B the expensive camera, we didn’t get M anything nearly as expensive for her birthday or mother’s day so we’ll have to do something special for her when they get here on 1 September”.
Excuse me?
Apparently they’ve been “hinting” about wanting to come out again. I’m sure this is due to the fact that B’s heart is scheduled to explode within a year (much like their 5 year plan where they will run out of money and the “boys” will take care of them, they also seem to be scheduling their deaths). J and hubby had been talking it over and decided that they might as well come out when J comes out, that way we’ll get the visit out of the way, J can also enjoy the lunacy that erupts when they visit (sort of a tag team concept of looney). So much for our annual relaxing, playing video games, sleeping in and going to starbucks about 5 times a day annual vacation.
Oh, goody.
So, there we have it. They’re coming back out again. I’m sure they’ll be toting plenty of perishable items that they’ll hide in the guest room, and leave things uncovered in the fridge, and bring a whole slew of items for me to post and share with you all.
Thankfully on 1 September I’ll be out of town. OH THE SHAME! I won’t be coming back ever... I mean I won’t be coming back until 2 September... probably REALLY late, like REALLY LATE, so I’ll miss the initial viewing of the heirlooms, the arguing over where to eat and what to do, and who knows what hijinks may ensue in my absence. I’m sure I’ll get the scoop the moment I walk through the door... if I don’t get lost on the way home and end up staying in a hotel for a week.
He had asked me what “we” had sent to his father for Father’s day.
“A decorative and collectable tape dispenser in the shape of a golf bag with clubs” I announce. Its my mission to find the strangest things to send to B and M for their anniversaries, birthdays and other special events. I figure that we’ll be “willed” all of this crap when they finally kick, so why not make it interesting. Nothing could compare to the last gift I sent to B, it was a classic: A tin that contained cookies and teas that was in the shape of a dog... complete with metal dog balls. Classic. We got a tickled phone call from B after he got that one. I think he gets it, M is totally clueless.
Anyway, so I’m brushing the dog when hubby announcing that he and J will be going in together to get their father a digital camera. B has wanted one since their last visit when hubby bought one (and B threw the fit because he wanted to help buy it). I figured as much when I sent the gawdy and cheap tape dispenser. He also mentioned something about doing something nice for M when they were here this fall.
Excuse me?
Hubby begins talking quickly and backing away from the screen door, no doubt envisioning me beating him with the rather sharp grooming rake in my hand. “Well, if we get B the expensive camera, we didn’t get M anything nearly as expensive for her birthday or mother’s day so we’ll have to do something special for her when they get here on 1 September”.
Excuse me?
Apparently they’ve been “hinting” about wanting to come out again. I’m sure this is due to the fact that B’s heart is scheduled to explode within a year (much like their 5 year plan where they will run out of money and the “boys” will take care of them, they also seem to be scheduling their deaths). J and hubby had been talking it over and decided that they might as well come out when J comes out, that way we’ll get the visit out of the way, J can also enjoy the lunacy that erupts when they visit (sort of a tag team concept of looney). So much for our annual relaxing, playing video games, sleeping in and going to starbucks about 5 times a day annual vacation.
Oh, goody.
So, there we have it. They’re coming back out again. I’m sure they’ll be toting plenty of perishable items that they’ll hide in the guest room, and leave things uncovered in the fridge, and bring a whole slew of items for me to post and share with you all.
Thankfully on 1 September I’ll be out of town. OH THE SHAME! I won’t be coming back ever... I mean I won’t be coming back until 2 September... probably REALLY late, like REALLY LATE, so I’ll miss the initial viewing of the heirlooms, the arguing over where to eat and what to do, and who knows what hijinks may ensue in my absence. I’m sure I’ll get the scoop the moment I walk through the door... if I don’t get lost on the way home and end up staying in a hotel for a week.
Pre-Visit Drama #1 6/30/2007
Hubby sent out an e-mail explaining that since we don’t have a lot of vacation, wouldn’t it be nice if they would be able to visit when J was here. That way it would be a wonderful “family” get together.
Well, it does make sense, since we’re taking off time to spend with J, that they might as well just come at the same time, since we would have more people as the “tag-team” allowing others to flee and get some down time from them. It would be perfect.
Well, not so perfect, because you see, they have a prior commitment that week. They help with an event, and the event happens to be that week. M has graciously volunteered to stay home while B flies out and spends time with the kids. She’ll just stay home and do what needs to be done while most of the family can be together and have fun... don’t worry about her, she’s sure there will be other times before they die that everyone can get together... not a problem... she’ll be fine.
Oh good lord!
Now hubby is in a quandary. Do we allow B to come out by himself and then suffer through M calling and moaning about not being with the “kids”, suffer through B moaning about how he wishes the “whole family” could be there. Or do we move the visit to another week?
The reason we pick that particular week is because Monday is a holiday, which means we have to take less vacation. If we move it to the week after, will J be able to make it (since that will fall right on that lovely September 11th timeframe when nobody wants to fly). Even if we do move it, they won’t be happy. They’re never happy. They are THE MOST MISERABLE people I’ve ever met in my entire life! There is always something to complain about, no matter how perfect, no matter how planned, SOMETHING is never “just right” with them.
I realize I’m off on a rant about this (because they drive me to be like this) but I really don’t see why hubby bends over backwards to please them, when these people WILL NEVER be pleased about anything. We actually got into a “discussion” about this on the way out to dinner. I tried to point out the futility of it all, but he started getting upset, so I dropped it. I’ve decided that I’m not going to ask when, where, or why. Maybe he’ll tell me when they’re showing up, maybe he won’t regardless, I’m not making any vacation plans because at this point, I’m thinking that going to work while they’re here may be the way to go at this point. Frankly, since I’ll already be out of town, maybe staying out of town would be the way to go ☺
Well, it does make sense, since we’re taking off time to spend with J, that they might as well just come at the same time, since we would have more people as the “tag-team” allowing others to flee and get some down time from them. It would be perfect.
Well, not so perfect, because you see, they have a prior commitment that week. They help with an event, and the event happens to be that week. M has graciously volunteered to stay home while B flies out and spends time with the kids. She’ll just stay home and do what needs to be done while most of the family can be together and have fun... don’t worry about her, she’s sure there will be other times before they die that everyone can get together... not a problem... she’ll be fine.
Oh good lord!
Now hubby is in a quandary. Do we allow B to come out by himself and then suffer through M calling and moaning about not being with the “kids”, suffer through B moaning about how he wishes the “whole family” could be there. Or do we move the visit to another week?
The reason we pick that particular week is because Monday is a holiday, which means we have to take less vacation. If we move it to the week after, will J be able to make it (since that will fall right on that lovely September 11th timeframe when nobody wants to fly). Even if we do move it, they won’t be happy. They’re never happy. They are THE MOST MISERABLE people I’ve ever met in my entire life! There is always something to complain about, no matter how perfect, no matter how planned, SOMETHING is never “just right” with them.
I realize I’m off on a rant about this (because they drive me to be like this) but I really don’t see why hubby bends over backwards to please them, when these people WILL NEVER be pleased about anything. We actually got into a “discussion” about this on the way out to dinner. I tried to point out the futility of it all, but he started getting upset, so I dropped it. I’ve decided that I’m not going to ask when, where, or why. Maybe he’ll tell me when they’re showing up, maybe he won’t regardless, I’m not making any vacation plans because at this point, I’m thinking that going to work while they’re here may be the way to go at this point. Frankly, since I’ll already be out of town, maybe staying out of town would be the way to go ☺
Pre-Visit Drama #2 8/19/2007
We keep getting e-mails from M & B that ask:
“do we have a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number.
“we were justing wondering, do you have a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number
“If you could be so kind, we were wondering if you both had a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number
“We will need to use your fax machine, if you have one, so that the golf tournament people can fax us things, do you have a fax machine?”
YES, HERE IS THE NUMBER
Then the following e-mail:
“We thought it would be lovely if we could all have some fresh pacific salmon grilled on the deck while we were all there. Would you like us to bring some with us on the plane?”
My first response to this (to hubby only, of course) was “does she plan on carting salmon here in her purse with the rest of the items that require refrigeration that they stash in the guest room for a week?”
Hubby e-mailed them back and suggested that instead of them going to all the trouble of carting around a cooler full of ice and salmon (which I’m sure airline security would just love), why not just order it straight from the place they like on the West Coast and have them ship it to our house. After all, they do that all the time, its their business, so wouldn’t they have a better shipment method than carting a cooler onto a plane right before the whole September 11 anniversary thing?
Of course, no response on that one.
Then the next e-mail:
“We have this very large, very old bible that we’d like you to have. We’ve tried to donate it to a church, but nobody wants it (hint: if nobody wants it...) so we thought you might like to have it.
Response:
We have no place to put it, we’re not big into bibles actually, so unless it has some sort of genealogical importance, we would rather not have it.
I’m waiting for the ”story“ of the bible which will go something like this:
Uncle Clem’s great grand-daddy rode on a horse to Missouri in a horrible blizzard and found the bible in a snowbank, so he passed it off onto Aunt Drusilda’s family who kept it next to the door to keep the door from blowing open during the big storm of 1805. Since then it has been passed down from generation to generation to people that didn’t want the stupid thing and couldn’t wait to hand it off onto someone else with some outlandish story about why they needed to keep it until they could find some poor schmuck to dump it off on.
So, here’s the expectation of this trip:
1.) M will bring salmon in her purse
2.) They’ll complain that we didn’t tell them we had a fax machine
3.) We’re getting a big honky old bible
“do we have a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number.
“we were justing wondering, do you have a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number
“If you could be so kind, we were wondering if you both had a fax machine?”
Yes, here is the number
“We will need to use your fax machine, if you have one, so that the golf tournament people can fax us things, do you have a fax machine?”
YES, HERE IS THE NUMBER
Then the following e-mail:
“We thought it would be lovely if we could all have some fresh pacific salmon grilled on the deck while we were all there. Would you like us to bring some with us on the plane?”
My first response to this (to hubby only, of course) was “does she plan on carting salmon here in her purse with the rest of the items that require refrigeration that they stash in the guest room for a week?”
Hubby e-mailed them back and suggested that instead of them going to all the trouble of carting around a cooler full of ice and salmon (which I’m sure airline security would just love), why not just order it straight from the place they like on the West Coast and have them ship it to our house. After all, they do that all the time, its their business, so wouldn’t they have a better shipment method than carting a cooler onto a plane right before the whole September 11 anniversary thing?
Of course, no response on that one.
Then the next e-mail:
“We have this very large, very old bible that we’d like you to have. We’ve tried to donate it to a church, but nobody wants it (hint: if nobody wants it...) so we thought you might like to have it.
Response:
We have no place to put it, we’re not big into bibles actually, so unless it has some sort of genealogical importance, we would rather not have it.
I’m waiting for the ”story“ of the bible which will go something like this:
Uncle Clem’s great grand-daddy rode on a horse to Missouri in a horrible blizzard and found the bible in a snowbank, so he passed it off onto Aunt Drusilda’s family who kept it next to the door to keep the door from blowing open during the big storm of 1805. Since then it has been passed down from generation to generation to people that didn’t want the stupid thing and couldn’t wait to hand it off onto someone else with some outlandish story about why they needed to keep it until they could find some poor schmuck to dump it off on.
So, here’s the expectation of this trip:
1.) M will bring salmon in her purse
2.) They’ll complain that we didn’t tell them we had a fax machine
3.) We’re getting a big honky old bible
Pre-Visit Drama #3 8/28/2007
The phone rang the other night and silly me, I picked it up without checking caller-id and then simply handing the phone to hubby. It was B. I won’t go into the whole: I didn’t know it was him and asked who it was and therefore got the “well, we hardly ever talk so I guess that’s understandable that you wouldn’t know my voice” guilt trip. Ok, I just did.
First question: What’s the weather like there?
It sucks, I reply, it was 104 degrees yesterday.
“Oh, well we weren’t sure about packing some shorts, but if its that hot there, I guess we’ll bring a pair or two”.
Please note: Since they are incapable of asking questions like real people, who would have simply said “hey, we’re thinking of what to pack for the trip, what would you suggest?” We get the 20 questions quiz show and we have to guess what our answers will sufficiently cover whatever question they have.
Which leads to the next question: Are you planning on going anywhere formal?
No, actually we’re going to lay around in our underwear and do nothing for the amount of time you’ll be here, never leave the house, and general do nothing.
“No” I tell him, and he said “oh” in a disappointed sort of way.
This leads us to the question of the fresh salmon. Ok, I have no idea what actually led up to this conversation. One minute we’re talking what to pack and he brings up the purse salmon.
“Hey, we don’t expect you to (yes you do) go out and get salmon or anything, we were just thinking it would be nice to bring some out (in M’s purse) with us to enjoy because we were at a tournament a few weeks ago and M talked to someone who very nicely gave us some salmon wrapped in paper, and it sat in the back seat of the car (um, for how long?) wrapped in that paper (ever hear of this new thing called plastic wrap or baggies?) and I forget where we were, but on that long drive (sitting in paper in the sun) all we could think of was that salmon (in paper, who knows how long), and it was a tasty piece of salmon, but we certainly didn’t expect it to be a problem to bring a piece of salmon out to you guys (in purse, probably not) but the airlines have these new rules (thankfully) so we can’t bring out any salmon.
“oh” is all I could muster... “wanna talk to your son?”
About 20 minutes later, hubby comes stumbling out of the bedroom with that look of utter brain bubbling.
“ok, so get this” I typically cringe at those words.
“B asked me if I remembered cousin (insert strange name here), and he said that she was in a motor home”. He stops... as B had stopped during the conversation, which leads you to start thinking “is this a normal thing? Is cousin XXX in a motor home on purpose, did she choose to be in a motor home, or is she in a motor home being held hostage, or perhaps holding others hostage?”
B then continued to say “Cousin XXX is in Hershey Park now”. Long pause to continue the: ok, she’s apparently armed and holding hostages at Hershey Park. “And then she’s driving down to Western Maryland” Ok, Cousin XXX isn’t holding hostages, she’s perhaps a spree killer, driving from town to town and offing people randomly. “And she might give you a call” HOLY CRAP! She’s gunning for relatives. Then you realize that she’s just driving around in the area and may look us up.
I have two thoughts on that.
1.) Random people driving motor homes and stopping in for a visit isn’t acceptable.
2.) Relatives of M and B driving in motor homes and stopping by perhaps to hook up to our electricity and making a nice summer home visit REALLY isn’t acceptable.
So, now I’m looking at having M and B here, some random cousin driving a motor home and squatting for who knows how long in my front yard, and J coming to relax and drink latte.
In regards to the purse salmon, hubby already ordered some fresh salmon and crab to be delivered to the house on friday morning, so I’m sure we’ll hear how that salmon isn’t as good as the sitting in a piece of paper in the back of the heated car piece of salmon they had, but I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to wrap some up and take it on the plane with them.
First question: What’s the weather like there?
It sucks, I reply, it was 104 degrees yesterday.
“Oh, well we weren’t sure about packing some shorts, but if its that hot there, I guess we’ll bring a pair or two”.
Please note: Since they are incapable of asking questions like real people, who would have simply said “hey, we’re thinking of what to pack for the trip, what would you suggest?” We get the 20 questions quiz show and we have to guess what our answers will sufficiently cover whatever question they have.
Which leads to the next question: Are you planning on going anywhere formal?
No, actually we’re going to lay around in our underwear and do nothing for the amount of time you’ll be here, never leave the house, and general do nothing.
“No” I tell him, and he said “oh” in a disappointed sort of way.
This leads us to the question of the fresh salmon. Ok, I have no idea what actually led up to this conversation. One minute we’re talking what to pack and he brings up the purse salmon.
“Hey, we don’t expect you to (yes you do) go out and get salmon or anything, we were just thinking it would be nice to bring some out (in M’s purse) with us to enjoy because we were at a tournament a few weeks ago and M talked to someone who very nicely gave us some salmon wrapped in paper, and it sat in the back seat of the car (um, for how long?) wrapped in that paper (ever hear of this new thing called plastic wrap or baggies?) and I forget where we were, but on that long drive (sitting in paper in the sun) all we could think of was that salmon (in paper, who knows how long), and it was a tasty piece of salmon, but we certainly didn’t expect it to be a problem to bring a piece of salmon out to you guys (in purse, probably not) but the airlines have these new rules (thankfully) so we can’t bring out any salmon.
“oh” is all I could muster... “wanna talk to your son?”
About 20 minutes later, hubby comes stumbling out of the bedroom with that look of utter brain bubbling.
“ok, so get this” I typically cringe at those words.
“B asked me if I remembered cousin (insert strange name here), and he said that she was in a motor home”. He stops... as B had stopped during the conversation, which leads you to start thinking “is this a normal thing? Is cousin XXX in a motor home on purpose, did she choose to be in a motor home, or is she in a motor home being held hostage, or perhaps holding others hostage?”
B then continued to say “Cousin XXX is in Hershey Park now”. Long pause to continue the: ok, she’s apparently armed and holding hostages at Hershey Park. “And then she’s driving down to Western Maryland” Ok, Cousin XXX isn’t holding hostages, she’s perhaps a spree killer, driving from town to town and offing people randomly. “And she might give you a call” HOLY CRAP! She’s gunning for relatives. Then you realize that she’s just driving around in the area and may look us up.
I have two thoughts on that.
1.) Random people driving motor homes and stopping in for a visit isn’t acceptable.
2.) Relatives of M and B driving in motor homes and stopping by perhaps to hook up to our electricity and making a nice summer home visit REALLY isn’t acceptable.
So, now I’m looking at having M and B here, some random cousin driving a motor home and squatting for who knows how long in my front yard, and J coming to relax and drink latte.
In regards to the purse salmon, hubby already ordered some fresh salmon and crab to be delivered to the house on friday morning, so I’m sure we’ll hear how that salmon isn’t as good as the sitting in a piece of paper in the back of the heated car piece of salmon they had, but I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to wrap some up and take it on the plane with them.
The Arrival 9/2/2007
Thankfully I was in Philadelphia when B and M arrived, but I kept getting cryptic messages of keening and pain from hubby. Apparently they did nothing but talk non-stop about their flight and about nothing really in general. They hate silence and feel the need to fill every void with prattle and inane babbling about nothing, which drives us both insane.
On Saturday I got up at 5am and spent the entire day at a huge rescue hike event. It was non-stop all day, great turn-out, tons of people, overwhelming crowds and very incredibly busy all day. I barely got to eat, never had a chance to sit down until the very end, and still had to reload the gear, then unload the gear. At that point I was covered in grime and sweat (and blood, having tripped on a tent cover and took a dive on my knee), and just wanted to get home... well, I wanted to get home to a quiet house with the dogs and hubby, but was driving straight back into the insanity of the in-laws.
So, tired, grimy, sore, stiff, and did I mention tired, I drive 150 miles home. I get a text from hubby that J’s plane got delayed and won’t be arriving until midnight (swell), so he and the in-laws were going out to eat. I was in the area, so I drove to the food place and showed up. They were pleased to see me (hubby more than B and M because I was there as his sanity shield) and we had a pretty quiet dinner, since I was checking all of my e-mails from the event and had just driven 150 miles and didn’t feel much like conversing about general stuff about nothing. Stopped at Starbucks on the way home, once again pretty uncomfortable silence with smattering of babbling, and then home, where I generally hid because I was having sensory overload already with the questions that M was asking about the event. I don’t even remember the questions, I was so tired.
Around 11 pm we head for the airport, only to find that J’s flight was delayed another half hour, so we ventured around the pretty much closed airport and discussed things like:
the euro
lantrens. Not lanterns mind you, but lantrens, because that’s how M says the word, and how they have lantrens at home depot and they are generally on sale this time of year and they could get some lantrens once they get back home if she wants them, but oh, no, I just thought that lantren in that one yard (um, which yard) was pretty and I was just remarking about the pretty lantren, but I don’t think I would want a lantren in the yard because it wouldn’t go with the solar lighting we have, but if we replaced the solar lighting with different lantrens.... my brain exploded at this point.
J’s flight arrived and we stood in abject silence pretty much while we watched him wait for his luggage and then got into the car. There was a minor meltdown as they all crammed into the back of the SUV and then couldn’t find the middle seatbelt and there was some drama there about that before we just decided to drive home without unloading the entire truck and figuring out the middle seat belt. We got home and I pretty much fled into the bedroom and passed out.
On Saturday I got up at 5am and spent the entire day at a huge rescue hike event. It was non-stop all day, great turn-out, tons of people, overwhelming crowds and very incredibly busy all day. I barely got to eat, never had a chance to sit down until the very end, and still had to reload the gear, then unload the gear. At that point I was covered in grime and sweat (and blood, having tripped on a tent cover and took a dive on my knee), and just wanted to get home... well, I wanted to get home to a quiet house with the dogs and hubby, but was driving straight back into the insanity of the in-laws.
So, tired, grimy, sore, stiff, and did I mention tired, I drive 150 miles home. I get a text from hubby that J’s plane got delayed and won’t be arriving until midnight (swell), so he and the in-laws were going out to eat. I was in the area, so I drove to the food place and showed up. They were pleased to see me (hubby more than B and M because I was there as his sanity shield) and we had a pretty quiet dinner, since I was checking all of my e-mails from the event and had just driven 150 miles and didn’t feel much like conversing about general stuff about nothing. Stopped at Starbucks on the way home, once again pretty uncomfortable silence with smattering of babbling, and then home, where I generally hid because I was having sensory overload already with the questions that M was asking about the event. I don’t even remember the questions, I was so tired.
Around 11 pm we head for the airport, only to find that J’s flight was delayed another half hour, so we ventured around the pretty much closed airport and discussed things like:
the euro
lantrens. Not lanterns mind you, but lantrens, because that’s how M says the word, and how they have lantrens at home depot and they are generally on sale this time of year and they could get some lantrens once they get back home if she wants them, but oh, no, I just thought that lantren in that one yard (um, which yard) was pretty and I was just remarking about the pretty lantren, but I don’t think I would want a lantren in the yard because it wouldn’t go with the solar lighting we have, but if we replaced the solar lighting with different lantrens.... my brain exploded at this point.
J’s flight arrived and we stood in abject silence pretty much while we watched him wait for his luggage and then got into the car. There was a minor meltdown as they all crammed into the back of the SUV and then couldn’t find the middle seatbelt and there was some drama there about that before we just decided to drive home without unloading the entire truck and figuring out the middle seat belt. We got home and I pretty much fled into the bedroom and passed out.
Day 2 9/2/2007
Unfortunately (for hubby) I woke up with a horrible headache and was unable to go with the group to the mall to get things, so I had a nice relaxing few hours by myself in my house with no interruptions.
Chaos ensued when they got back because they had bought a bunch of things to make with the big salmon we had shipped in. The shipper didn’t filet it like we asked, so we had a whole salmon minus the head, tail and guts to deal with and nobody really had any idea how to filet it, so I ended up doing it thanks to watching Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe and learning all about cutting up fish from one of the episodes. See, tv is educational!
Of course, the kitchen was a mess, M just sat and watched everyone doing everything and didn’t bother to pitch in. I’m sure she was waiting for an invitation, which she typically does. She just won’t help out unless asked, and then will pout if nobody asks her to do anything.
While the food was grilling B starts in on the hometown news, which pretty much consists of everyone that has died and the details of their grisly deaths. OOH, there was this nice young couple that was planning on going on a cruise and the day of the cruise the husband died of a cerebral hemorrhage. And you remember that nice family down the block, well they died in a horrible car wreck, etc.
We also got treated to a rehash of their miserable flight, miserable food, miserable customer service, and then there was the concern that our fax machine wasn’t working because they should have received a fax by now and they couldn’t understand why there were no faxes, and are we sure the fax machine actually works and could you check to see if there were any faxes. Um, no faxes, sorry.
After we ate we decided to go drive around and take pictures for hubby’s camera class. We were treated to M’s discussion of “people that park in front of grocery stores”, at least I think that was the topic, as she tends to talk about nothing, throw in little details that really have nothing to do with the story, and never come to a point. It went something like this: “oh yes, when we go to the store we always park in the designated areas, and usually there isn’t a problem with people parking right in front of the store, but when the working people get off work, you see the stay at home moms and the retired people don’t park in front of the store, its only those working people that do it, so during the day its not a problem and you can walk right into the store, but after those people get off work there’s always cars parked in front of the store, and I asked the manager one time if they could do something about that but this one time there was a car parked there and I went in to get a few things and frankly if you are running in to get some crackers or some dip for a small party you may be attending, you know just to get a bag of chips or something. although if you are going to a party you shouldn’t just bring chips, you should also probably get something else because chips just aren’t enough if one were to be asked to bring something, I generally try to get some dip or other items to bring to those types of things, but anyway I went into the store to grab a few items for this bridge party that we had been invited to, this nice older lady whose husband died a few years back has us over for bridge about once a month and I always try to bring over something nice to share with everyone, so when I went into the store there was this lady there and she had this huge cart full of groceries and I know that had to be her car that was parked in the front, so it wasn’t as if she had just run in to grab something for a party, she had a whole cart full of stuff and by the time I checked out and went back to the car she was still checking out so I know that must have been her car that was sitting in front of the store.”
My head exploded.
So we ended up at this lake and the sun was going down and we were taking pictures of a fountain and some other things and discussing cameras and all that. Out of the blue, M asks me: “Do you carry a flashlight?” “Um, no”. “oh”, she says, and that was that. I have no idea WHY she would ask me if I carry a flashlight, or if she actually needed a flashlight as it was still light out, or why I would possibly need to carry a flashlight, but it seemed very important to her to ask me that.
My head exploded.
On the way home we got to hear about their cell phone issues. Apparently when they were in some small town M got a signal, but B didn’t. Then they would drive a little ways and B would have a signal and M wouldn’t. They had gone to the cell phone provider and asked them why this was, they had the same cell phones, so shouldn’t they get the same signal. Hubby tried to explain the mechanics of cell phones and why that may be possible, but they said that wasn’t the case, even though that was the exact same explanation that they had received from two separate cell carrier customer service people. Ok... yes, my head exploded.
Chaos ensued when they got back because they had bought a bunch of things to make with the big salmon we had shipped in. The shipper didn’t filet it like we asked, so we had a whole salmon minus the head, tail and guts to deal with and nobody really had any idea how to filet it, so I ended up doing it thanks to watching Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe and learning all about cutting up fish from one of the episodes. See, tv is educational!
Of course, the kitchen was a mess, M just sat and watched everyone doing everything and didn’t bother to pitch in. I’m sure she was waiting for an invitation, which she typically does. She just won’t help out unless asked, and then will pout if nobody asks her to do anything.
While the food was grilling B starts in on the hometown news, which pretty much consists of everyone that has died and the details of their grisly deaths. OOH, there was this nice young couple that was planning on going on a cruise and the day of the cruise the husband died of a cerebral hemorrhage. And you remember that nice family down the block, well they died in a horrible car wreck, etc.
We also got treated to a rehash of their miserable flight, miserable food, miserable customer service, and then there was the concern that our fax machine wasn’t working because they should have received a fax by now and they couldn’t understand why there were no faxes, and are we sure the fax machine actually works and could you check to see if there were any faxes. Um, no faxes, sorry.
After we ate we decided to go drive around and take pictures for hubby’s camera class. We were treated to M’s discussion of “people that park in front of grocery stores”, at least I think that was the topic, as she tends to talk about nothing, throw in little details that really have nothing to do with the story, and never come to a point. It went something like this: “oh yes, when we go to the store we always park in the designated areas, and usually there isn’t a problem with people parking right in front of the store, but when the working people get off work, you see the stay at home moms and the retired people don’t park in front of the store, its only those working people that do it, so during the day its not a problem and you can walk right into the store, but after those people get off work there’s always cars parked in front of the store, and I asked the manager one time if they could do something about that but this one time there was a car parked there and I went in to get a few things and frankly if you are running in to get some crackers or some dip for a small party you may be attending, you know just to get a bag of chips or something. although if you are going to a party you shouldn’t just bring chips, you should also probably get something else because chips just aren’t enough if one were to be asked to bring something, I generally try to get some dip or other items to bring to those types of things, but anyway I went into the store to grab a few items for this bridge party that we had been invited to, this nice older lady whose husband died a few years back has us over for bridge about once a month and I always try to bring over something nice to share with everyone, so when I went into the store there was this lady there and she had this huge cart full of groceries and I know that had to be her car that was parked in the front, so it wasn’t as if she had just run in to grab something for a party, she had a whole cart full of stuff and by the time I checked out and went back to the car she was still checking out so I know that must have been her car that was sitting in front of the store.”
My head exploded.
So we ended up at this lake and the sun was going down and we were taking pictures of a fountain and some other things and discussing cameras and all that. Out of the blue, M asks me: “Do you carry a flashlight?” “Um, no”. “oh”, she says, and that was that. I have no idea WHY she would ask me if I carry a flashlight, or if she actually needed a flashlight as it was still light out, or why I would possibly need to carry a flashlight, but it seemed very important to her to ask me that.
My head exploded.
On the way home we got to hear about their cell phone issues. Apparently when they were in some small town M got a signal, but B didn’t. Then they would drive a little ways and B would have a signal and M wouldn’t. They had gone to the cell phone provider and asked them why this was, they had the same cell phones, so shouldn’t they get the same signal. Hubby tried to explain the mechanics of cell phones and why that may be possible, but they said that wasn’t the case, even though that was the exact same explanation that they had received from two separate cell carrier customer service people. Ok... yes, my head exploded.
Day 459 9/4/2007
Ok, it just seems that long.
We all woke up and decided to head to the mall and walk around. We actually wanted to hit the Apple store for a reason, but we figured a nice mall walk would waste some time. Hubby announces that we need to get ready to go to the mall.
I shower.
J showers.
Hubby showers.
M and B are already dressed.
I say I’m ready.
J says that he’s ready.
Hubby says that he’s ready.
M says she needs to go change her shoes.
B says that he needs to go change his pants.
Fifteen minutes later they emerge from the bedroom.
I’m ready
J’s ready
hubby is ready
Now B has to go downstairs for something.
M is wandering around the house with her purse.
Another fifteen minutes pass, no B, I go look for him, he’s standing at the doorway waiting.
I round everyone up, M has a last minute need to go into the guestroom and another 10 minutes pass.
It took us an hour to get them ready after we told them we were ready.
We drive to the mall and get the traveling tour “oh look, a horse farm, that’s a big horse farm, how many horses are on that farm?” We don’t know. “What do they do with those horses?” We don’t know. “Oh look, its the Renaissance Festival, do they have that every year?” Yes. “Is all that traffic going west bound people coming back from the shore?” We don’t know. “That’s a lot of cars, I’m sure its people coming back from the shore” Sure, fine, its people coming back from the shore. “I think there would be more cars than that if people are coming back from the shore.” Ok, sure, whatever.
Get to the mall, walk in and go straight to Starbucks (of course). We’re in line, M and B are standing outside of the store in front of a line of people wanting to order. I tell the counter person that we’re all together and order, hubby orders, J orders and then motions for his parents to come up and order. M walks up to the second cashier and announces that we’re all together, and then just stands there, blocking the second line. We tell her to order. She ponders, still standing in the second line blocking the line. We tell her to move over to let others order, she gets snitty and orders. Then B rushes up and insists on paying, so we go stand in the waiting for drinks line. B pays for the drinks and walks over to us, M is now standing in the 1st line blocking people, we tell her to move over, she gets snitty.
Get our drinks and walk over to the Apple store, find the piece of software that we want. M goes and sits outside of the store while J and I try to convince B that he needs to buy a Mac. He’s infamous for taking Windows computers and totally hosing them up on a monthly basis.
We get our software and then walk down the mall. As usual, we’re all in front and B and M are lagging about 300 feet behind us. We slow down, they slow down. We stop to let them catch up and they stop. Its maddening and we’re all three bitching about their annoying habit, turn around and they’re gone. J walks back to find them, they’ve darted into a store and when they see J walking back, they scurry out. He asks them if they were done browsing and they insist that they don’t need anything. We continue our slow walk down the mall.
We stop at Borders to look around, I scurried off to some section to get away from everyone, so it was pretty much a mad flee to escape them. I get a text that they’re leaving after a while, so I come down and they are all gathered near the entrance, B and M are blocking the entrance, so we move them along so people can get into the store. Once again, the maddening crawl toward where we park, except this time we stopped to make fun of something, and M takes off down the mall. She’s really hauling, with a purpose, heading for something. I guessed correctly that she was heading for the Godiva kiosk and sure enough she stops there and picks up some chocolates. Now, we were going to pass this kiosk on the way back, so we have no idea why she didn’t just walk with us down the mall and then say “Oh, I’d like to stop and buy something here” and we’d wait for her, she just takes off down the mall without us.
We ended up waiting for her anyway, then we made them walk in front of us the rest of the way back.
Once loaded in the SUV we headed to a shopping plaza and got more Starbucks, then headed to the Whole Foods for stuff to grill that night. It took them 40 questions before they understood that Whole Foods was an organic store, and I really had no idea where they shipped their produce from, even though they asked me 14 times. “Do they ship it from California?” I don’t know. “Berries are out of season, so where do they ship their berries from?” I don’t know.
B and I got into line because he insisted on paying, M stood in front of the exit, blocking people from leaving, J and hubby went outside to get out of the way and have nervous breakdowns. The cashier wasn’t particularly slow or anything, and yet as we left, M announced extremely loudly “was she in training, is that why she’s so slow”. I scurried outside with the bag.
We go home. “So, do they race those horses at the horse farm?” I don’t know.
They get a phone call on their cell, its the guy that’s suppose to fax them stuff for their golf tournament. For the 500th time we give them our fax number, and hubby preps the computer to receive faxes. A half hour passes. An hour passes, no faxes. Just as hubby was about to install the new software on his computer, the phone rings, yep, the faxes. Except the guy can’t hit the send button or who knows what, so for the next two hours the phone rings off the hook while this moron tries to send the faxes, and we can’t call him back to explain AGAIN to just hit the send button when the phone picks up because he’s speed dialing the number to send the faxes. The guy finally gets through and figures out to hit the send button, and we get one fax. Then he calls again to send another fax. Um, shove all of the paper in and send multiple pages... but no, he’s sending one page, hanging up, dialing, sending another page, etc. Each time he tries to send, he seems to forget to hit the freakin send button. M is getting more and more flustered with each ring of the phone, and hubby says “I should just have me grab the faxes downstairs instead of letting the computer pick it up since the guy can’t figure it out”. M immediately runs and tells B that I have the faxes downstairs. I hear someone coming down the stairs, and then go back up the stairs. Meanwhile I’ve grown tired of the constantly ringing phone, so I just intercept the freakin faxes downstairs without realizing what hubby had said. So I walk upstairs with a fax as hubby is explaining to M that I wasn’t getting faxes downstairs but I could if he asked me to. I hand her the fax and she gets this pompous look on her face and says something like “well, I guess they were going downstairs after all” and I grabbed hubby before he could strangle her.
Once again they have salmon and we picked up a steak for me at Whole Foods because I don’t like fish. We’re outside on the deck having a pleasant discussion about nothing in general, wind power I think (good lord) and the food is ready.
I eat my steak with ketchup. Apparently this is not acceptable in the world, despite the fact that people throws A-1, Heinz 57, seared and braised, seasoning and all sorts of manner of other condiments on a steak and that’s perfectly fine. I eat mine with ketchup, have for 40 some years. Frankly I’m a bit sick of people commenting on it, I don’t bitch at them for putting butter on their baked potato, so leave me the F alone. Yes, B makes some snide comment about “ruining” my steak with ketchup. I look at him and say “well, since I pay the mortgage for this house I’ll eat whatever I damn well want on my steak in my own house or anywhere I want actually”. I wanted to say something to the effect that if I felt compelled to wipe my butt with the steak and eat it, its none of his damn business, but toned it down a bit.
After we had all eaten, I went and sat in the kitchen because I knew B and M would follow me there instead of standing in the computer room while J and hubby played their computer game. I had hoped to cull B away from M so I could ask him about his exploding heart that he keeps inferring throughout his visit that this would be the last visit, and I won’t have to worry about that next year because I’ll be DEAD, you know, little hints that something is up but they won’t tell you. It was a battle of wills because M plopped herself down at the table and we had a nice little chat about the seafood place where if you get there before 6pm and order you can get the special:
Well, if you get there before 6pm then you get this wonderful special for 16 dollars and it comes with an appetizer, a salad, then you get 6 shrimp (pronounced srimp) and a small steak and you get dessert, which is absolutely wonderful and there’s some times that we’ll go in there and not be very hungry so we’ll just get one special and I’ll have the srimp and B will have the steak and that’s plenty of food for us, but other times we’ll go and both get the special and then there’s plenty of leftovers (which probably reside in her purse until she’s ready to eat it) to take home and have a very nice meal on those leftovers.
I got to hear how that place bought another piece of land and they’re building a steak house so instead of surf and turf, I’m sure it’ll be turf and surf on the menu (ha ha), and how they weren’t that impressed with some of the new hamburger places and how others just rave about them, but they don’t like the hamburgers there and they think the other hamburger place is so much better. On and on and on and on.
FINALLY M announced that she was going to bed, so I hijacked B to ask him what the scoop was on his exploding heart. The gist is that he’s had several stents put in, and the doctors told him that he had 1-2 years and then things could go bad. This month is the one year anniversary of that announcement, so B feels that at any moment he’ll keel. Ok, so I ask him what he wanted to do with the remaining time and shouldn’t he be doing more to tell his sons how proud of them he is, etc. Well, he wants to help more people, but he doesn’t, and he wished he had done things differently so that his sons could have better lives (um... ok... gee thanks), and generally it was a whole bunch of coulda, woulda, shoulda swimming in lake me and his sons are miserable and aren’t as successful as he’d like because he didn’t take the garbage out on thursdays instead of wednesdays or some stupid crap. In a nutshell, it was pretty much a whole bunch of woe and wishing, but no effort on his part to do anything about it.
He also wished that they would be more interested in the heirlooms that they had, and he was worried that the lamps that his father had given him would end up in the “wrong hands”. Um, excuse me? He didn’t want to give them to J because his wife would give them to her sister and he didn’t want her sister to have them. Um... are ya kidding me?
So, in a nutshell, B is more worried about his heirlooms going to the right place than he is that his sons are worried about him, or that they are happy and successful. He doesn’t think they’re happy or successful enough. Good lord. How do you deal with that?
We all woke up and decided to head to the mall and walk around. We actually wanted to hit the Apple store for a reason, but we figured a nice mall walk would waste some time. Hubby announces that we need to get ready to go to the mall.
I shower.
J showers.
Hubby showers.
M and B are already dressed.
I say I’m ready.
J says that he’s ready.
Hubby says that he’s ready.
M says she needs to go change her shoes.
B says that he needs to go change his pants.
Fifteen minutes later they emerge from the bedroom.
I’m ready
J’s ready
hubby is ready
Now B has to go downstairs for something.
M is wandering around the house with her purse.
Another fifteen minutes pass, no B, I go look for him, he’s standing at the doorway waiting.
I round everyone up, M has a last minute need to go into the guestroom and another 10 minutes pass.
It took us an hour to get them ready after we told them we were ready.
We drive to the mall and get the traveling tour “oh look, a horse farm, that’s a big horse farm, how many horses are on that farm?” We don’t know. “What do they do with those horses?” We don’t know. “Oh look, its the Renaissance Festival, do they have that every year?” Yes. “Is all that traffic going west bound people coming back from the shore?” We don’t know. “That’s a lot of cars, I’m sure its people coming back from the shore” Sure, fine, its people coming back from the shore. “I think there would be more cars than that if people are coming back from the shore.” Ok, sure, whatever.
Get to the mall, walk in and go straight to Starbucks (of course). We’re in line, M and B are standing outside of the store in front of a line of people wanting to order. I tell the counter person that we’re all together and order, hubby orders, J orders and then motions for his parents to come up and order. M walks up to the second cashier and announces that we’re all together, and then just stands there, blocking the second line. We tell her to order. She ponders, still standing in the second line blocking the line. We tell her to move over to let others order, she gets snitty and orders. Then B rushes up and insists on paying, so we go stand in the waiting for drinks line. B pays for the drinks and walks over to us, M is now standing in the 1st line blocking people, we tell her to move over, she gets snitty.
Get our drinks and walk over to the Apple store, find the piece of software that we want. M goes and sits outside of the store while J and I try to convince B that he needs to buy a Mac. He’s infamous for taking Windows computers and totally hosing them up on a monthly basis.
We get our software and then walk down the mall. As usual, we’re all in front and B and M are lagging about 300 feet behind us. We slow down, they slow down. We stop to let them catch up and they stop. Its maddening and we’re all three bitching about their annoying habit, turn around and they’re gone. J walks back to find them, they’ve darted into a store and when they see J walking back, they scurry out. He asks them if they were done browsing and they insist that they don’t need anything. We continue our slow walk down the mall.
We stop at Borders to look around, I scurried off to some section to get away from everyone, so it was pretty much a mad flee to escape them. I get a text that they’re leaving after a while, so I come down and they are all gathered near the entrance, B and M are blocking the entrance, so we move them along so people can get into the store. Once again, the maddening crawl toward where we park, except this time we stopped to make fun of something, and M takes off down the mall. She’s really hauling, with a purpose, heading for something. I guessed correctly that she was heading for the Godiva kiosk and sure enough she stops there and picks up some chocolates. Now, we were going to pass this kiosk on the way back, so we have no idea why she didn’t just walk with us down the mall and then say “Oh, I’d like to stop and buy something here” and we’d wait for her, she just takes off down the mall without us.
We ended up waiting for her anyway, then we made them walk in front of us the rest of the way back.
Once loaded in the SUV we headed to a shopping plaza and got more Starbucks, then headed to the Whole Foods for stuff to grill that night. It took them 40 questions before they understood that Whole Foods was an organic store, and I really had no idea where they shipped their produce from, even though they asked me 14 times. “Do they ship it from California?” I don’t know. “Berries are out of season, so where do they ship their berries from?” I don’t know.
B and I got into line because he insisted on paying, M stood in front of the exit, blocking people from leaving, J and hubby went outside to get out of the way and have nervous breakdowns. The cashier wasn’t particularly slow or anything, and yet as we left, M announced extremely loudly “was she in training, is that why she’s so slow”. I scurried outside with the bag.
We go home. “So, do they race those horses at the horse farm?” I don’t know.
They get a phone call on their cell, its the guy that’s suppose to fax them stuff for their golf tournament. For the 500th time we give them our fax number, and hubby preps the computer to receive faxes. A half hour passes. An hour passes, no faxes. Just as hubby was about to install the new software on his computer, the phone rings, yep, the faxes. Except the guy can’t hit the send button or who knows what, so for the next two hours the phone rings off the hook while this moron tries to send the faxes, and we can’t call him back to explain AGAIN to just hit the send button when the phone picks up because he’s speed dialing the number to send the faxes. The guy finally gets through and figures out to hit the send button, and we get one fax. Then he calls again to send another fax. Um, shove all of the paper in and send multiple pages... but no, he’s sending one page, hanging up, dialing, sending another page, etc. Each time he tries to send, he seems to forget to hit the freakin send button. M is getting more and more flustered with each ring of the phone, and hubby says “I should just have me grab the faxes downstairs instead of letting the computer pick it up since the guy can’t figure it out”. M immediately runs and tells B that I have the faxes downstairs. I hear someone coming down the stairs, and then go back up the stairs. Meanwhile I’ve grown tired of the constantly ringing phone, so I just intercept the freakin faxes downstairs without realizing what hubby had said. So I walk upstairs with a fax as hubby is explaining to M that I wasn’t getting faxes downstairs but I could if he asked me to. I hand her the fax and she gets this pompous look on her face and says something like “well, I guess they were going downstairs after all” and I grabbed hubby before he could strangle her.
Once again they have salmon and we picked up a steak for me at Whole Foods because I don’t like fish. We’re outside on the deck having a pleasant discussion about nothing in general, wind power I think (good lord) and the food is ready.
I eat my steak with ketchup. Apparently this is not acceptable in the world, despite the fact that people throws A-1, Heinz 57, seared and braised, seasoning and all sorts of manner of other condiments on a steak and that’s perfectly fine. I eat mine with ketchup, have for 40 some years. Frankly I’m a bit sick of people commenting on it, I don’t bitch at them for putting butter on their baked potato, so leave me the F alone. Yes, B makes some snide comment about “ruining” my steak with ketchup. I look at him and say “well, since I pay the mortgage for this house I’ll eat whatever I damn well want on my steak in my own house or anywhere I want actually”. I wanted to say something to the effect that if I felt compelled to wipe my butt with the steak and eat it, its none of his damn business, but toned it down a bit.
After we had all eaten, I went and sat in the kitchen because I knew B and M would follow me there instead of standing in the computer room while J and hubby played their computer game. I had hoped to cull B away from M so I could ask him about his exploding heart that he keeps inferring throughout his visit that this would be the last visit, and I won’t have to worry about that next year because I’ll be DEAD, you know, little hints that something is up but they won’t tell you. It was a battle of wills because M plopped herself down at the table and we had a nice little chat about the seafood place where if you get there before 6pm and order you can get the special:
Well, if you get there before 6pm then you get this wonderful special for 16 dollars and it comes with an appetizer, a salad, then you get 6 shrimp (pronounced srimp) and a small steak and you get dessert, which is absolutely wonderful and there’s some times that we’ll go in there and not be very hungry so we’ll just get one special and I’ll have the srimp and B will have the steak and that’s plenty of food for us, but other times we’ll go and both get the special and then there’s plenty of leftovers (which probably reside in her purse until she’s ready to eat it) to take home and have a very nice meal on those leftovers.
I got to hear how that place bought another piece of land and they’re building a steak house so instead of surf and turf, I’m sure it’ll be turf and surf on the menu (ha ha), and how they weren’t that impressed with some of the new hamburger places and how others just rave about them, but they don’t like the hamburgers there and they think the other hamburger place is so much better. On and on and on and on.
FINALLY M announced that she was going to bed, so I hijacked B to ask him what the scoop was on his exploding heart. The gist is that he’s had several stents put in, and the doctors told him that he had 1-2 years and then things could go bad. This month is the one year anniversary of that announcement, so B feels that at any moment he’ll keel. Ok, so I ask him what he wanted to do with the remaining time and shouldn’t he be doing more to tell his sons how proud of them he is, etc. Well, he wants to help more people, but he doesn’t, and he wished he had done things differently so that his sons could have better lives (um... ok... gee thanks), and generally it was a whole bunch of coulda, woulda, shoulda swimming in lake me and his sons are miserable and aren’t as successful as he’d like because he didn’t take the garbage out on thursdays instead of wednesdays or some stupid crap. In a nutshell, it was pretty much a whole bunch of woe and wishing, but no effort on his part to do anything about it.
He also wished that they would be more interested in the heirlooms that they had, and he was worried that the lamps that his father had given him would end up in the “wrong hands”. Um, excuse me? He didn’t want to give them to J because his wife would give them to her sister and he didn’t want her sister to have them. Um... are ya kidding me?
So, in a nutshell, B is more worried about his heirlooms going to the right place than he is that his sons are worried about him, or that they are happy and successful. He doesn’t think they’re happy or successful enough. Good lord. How do you deal with that?
The Last Day 9/4/2007
Having stayed up with B most of the night while he bemoaned his past mistakes being the cause of everything from global warming to the end of the earth as we know it, I tried to sleep in but the dogs insisted that I get up. It was at that point that I started to sneeze uncontrollably, so I figured it was just allergies and took some minor allergy pills and hoped for the best. I hid downstairs and blew my nose a lot.
You know its bad when their flight doesn’t leave until 5pm and hubby is pushing them out the door around 11:30am to go to lunch so they won’t be late to the airport. We drove to Bob Evans and sat down. After our late night talk, I expected B to be a little more forthcoming with talking to his sons... ok, I didn’t, they’ll never change, and sure enough he was fixated on some old barn that was across from the restaurant. I just love (no, actually it drives me nuts) how they dissect each and every little bit of everything, as if they are experts in everything from the workmanship of old barns to super highways.
As we waited for our food, my nose started to run uncontrollably and I started feeling worse and worse. I wanted to shove napkin up my nose to keep it from running, but refrained as I’m sure that would have disturbed M, who chit chatted with me about pumpkin pie.
We ate, we talked about absolutely nothing at all, and since we had another hour before we had to get to the airport, off we went to Starbucks. By now I wanted to curl up on the curb and die, even the soothing iced venti three pump mocha didn’t help me. As we still had an HOUR before we had to get to the airport, hubby drives us over to Best Buy. A woman that was obvious in a huge hurry pulled in beside us and got out even though we had parked first. She ran into the store. We go into the store, and apparently she needed to buy a DVD in a hurry. That was a 20 minute speculation conversation about why she needed the DVD in a hurry, ranging from rushing to a dying friend whose last wish was to see this movie, to a myriad of other things. I stood in a corner and tried not to drip on anything.
The car ride to the airport consisted of the following questions:
Why are cars parked on that side of the street?
Why does Northrup Grumman have such a big building near the airport?
B started to complain about the golf tournament software that he had and how difficult it was to use. M chimed in (because she knows everything) and gave us an example of why it was so hard. She explained that if you had a whole bunch of people, for instance... and then she starts naming like 50 people! Well, she was inputting their names one by one... and then she goes through the list of names again! But lately she found a button that says include all, so she didn’t have to include all the names... AND NAMES THE PEOPLE AGAIN!
When we parked, they made a note of saying aloud the number of parking spaces per deck... I don’t know why.
So, we’re in the airport and I’m the walking dead and all I want is some heavy duty drugs, which I’m sure they have at one of the airport stores for an arm and a leg, but at this point I don’t care. As we parked 6,000 miles from the check in counter, we had to take two of the moving walkways to get there. THEY STAND ON THE MOVING WALKWAYS!! They don’t walk slowly, they just stand there and typically they stand right in the middle so more sane people in a hurry can’t pass them.
We FINALLY get to the ticket counter and B goes to get the electronic tickets. M stands in the way with her carry on bag, we step WAY out of the way. We sat and watched a line form behind M. Finally someone points out that there is a free kiosk to get tickets. M then goes into great detail that she’s just waiting for her husband as they are flying home to help with a golf tournament, etc. The person just walks away as she’s in mid-explanation. The next person gets in behind her, she doesn’t say anything, finally they point out the free kiosk and she launches into the same explanation, and instead of realizing, “hey, people think I’m waiting” it takes her two more people before she moves BACK a little, same problem. I resisting body slamming her out of the way.
While all of this is going on, the Starbucks napkin (made from the finest chunks of wood pulp) that I’m blowing my nose on has disintegrated, I excuse myself and literally sprint to the news stand and buy kleenex and a small packet of nyquil and dry swallow it.
By the time I get back, they are at the entrance to security, so there are the obligatory good-bye hugs (cold, dead barely touching me hug from M and the “I’m going to die at any moment I’ll never see you again” hug from B) and we waited for them to go through the whole security thing and disappear before sprinting to the car. Freedom to lounge.
We got home and I pretty much slept for the rest of the afternoon in glorious peace and quiet.
Tomorrow I will be purging their extensive amount of left overs that they at least attempted to cover before shoving in the fridge.
You know its bad when their flight doesn’t leave until 5pm and hubby is pushing them out the door around 11:30am to go to lunch so they won’t be late to the airport. We drove to Bob Evans and sat down. After our late night talk, I expected B to be a little more forthcoming with talking to his sons... ok, I didn’t, they’ll never change, and sure enough he was fixated on some old barn that was across from the restaurant. I just love (no, actually it drives me nuts) how they dissect each and every little bit of everything, as if they are experts in everything from the workmanship of old barns to super highways.
As we waited for our food, my nose started to run uncontrollably and I started feeling worse and worse. I wanted to shove napkin up my nose to keep it from running, but refrained as I’m sure that would have disturbed M, who chit chatted with me about pumpkin pie.
We ate, we talked about absolutely nothing at all, and since we had another hour before we had to get to the airport, off we went to Starbucks. By now I wanted to curl up on the curb and die, even the soothing iced venti three pump mocha didn’t help me. As we still had an HOUR before we had to get to the airport, hubby drives us over to Best Buy. A woman that was obvious in a huge hurry pulled in beside us and got out even though we had parked first. She ran into the store. We go into the store, and apparently she needed to buy a DVD in a hurry. That was a 20 minute speculation conversation about why she needed the DVD in a hurry, ranging from rushing to a dying friend whose last wish was to see this movie, to a myriad of other things. I stood in a corner and tried not to drip on anything.
The car ride to the airport consisted of the following questions:
Why are cars parked on that side of the street?
Why does Northrup Grumman have such a big building near the airport?
B started to complain about the golf tournament software that he had and how difficult it was to use. M chimed in (because she knows everything) and gave us an example of why it was so hard. She explained that if you had a whole bunch of people, for instance... and then she starts naming like 50 people! Well, she was inputting their names one by one... and then she goes through the list of names again! But lately she found a button that says include all, so she didn’t have to include all the names... AND NAMES THE PEOPLE AGAIN!
When we parked, they made a note of saying aloud the number of parking spaces per deck... I don’t know why.
So, we’re in the airport and I’m the walking dead and all I want is some heavy duty drugs, which I’m sure they have at one of the airport stores for an arm and a leg, but at this point I don’t care. As we parked 6,000 miles from the check in counter, we had to take two of the moving walkways to get there. THEY STAND ON THE MOVING WALKWAYS!! They don’t walk slowly, they just stand there and typically they stand right in the middle so more sane people in a hurry can’t pass them.
We FINALLY get to the ticket counter and B goes to get the electronic tickets. M stands in the way with her carry on bag, we step WAY out of the way. We sat and watched a line form behind M. Finally someone points out that there is a free kiosk to get tickets. M then goes into great detail that she’s just waiting for her husband as they are flying home to help with a golf tournament, etc. The person just walks away as she’s in mid-explanation. The next person gets in behind her, she doesn’t say anything, finally they point out the free kiosk and she launches into the same explanation, and instead of realizing, “hey, people think I’m waiting” it takes her two more people before she moves BACK a little, same problem. I resisting body slamming her out of the way.
While all of this is going on, the Starbucks napkin (made from the finest chunks of wood pulp) that I’m blowing my nose on has disintegrated, I excuse myself and literally sprint to the news stand and buy kleenex and a small packet of nyquil and dry swallow it.
By the time I get back, they are at the entrance to security, so there are the obligatory good-bye hugs (cold, dead barely touching me hug from M and the “I’m going to die at any moment I’ll never see you again” hug from B) and we waited for them to go through the whole security thing and disappear before sprinting to the car. Freedom to lounge.
We got home and I pretty much slept for the rest of the afternoon in glorious peace and quiet.
Tomorrow I will be purging their extensive amount of left overs that they at least attempted to cover before shoving in the fridge.
October 16 2009 Visit Begins
Out of the blue, a few months ago, the in-laws announced that they would be visiting for the weekend in October. Thankfully unlike last time, this weekend didn’t encompass an entire WEEK, merely arriving on Friday and leaving on Monday morning. We shall see.
As usual, it was like pulling teeth with rusty pliers to get them to give us their itinerary. First it was: arriving at the airport at 4pm. No flight information. Airports are big with lots of exits, so we requested a bit more information like flight # and exact arrival time. That morning we got the information and girded our loins for the arrival.
The dilemma was that M’s birthday was the 9th of October and we had neglected to get her anything. She’s impossible to shop for because she never tells you what she wants, she never discloses any hobbies, she just expects you to know what she’s expecting from you, so generally I go on the Flower sites, put in a dollar range and pick the first thing of flowers or plants on there and “sign” a card and hope that appeases her. Since she’s thousands of miles away, its not too important whether it does or not, she’s not here, so whatever... but now she’s going to be HERE and we even neglected to send flowers.
We discussed the gift card idea. What could go wrong there, give her a gift card of money and she can get whatever she wants, except hubby points out that she would be miffed at that because its the easy way out and doesn’t show a lot of love and caring. My point is that at least its something and if she’s so ungrateful not to accept SOMETHING, then... well, I won’t go into the “then” part.
We didn’t know if she was still sewing with the expensive machine that does embroidery because we hadn’t received any intricate prisonware shirts with huskies on them that she then goes on and on about how much blood, sweat, and tears it took to create (when all she does is load a shirt and hit a button and the machine whips something out). We decide to let them arrive and try to decipher what she wants and get her that. Impossible at best, since with most visits, they never let us know what they really want to do (we just get “we just want to spend time with you both”) until they’re entering the security line of the airport and then they mention how they are really disappointed that they didn’t get to: insert elaborate sightseeing plan here.
The whole weekend is scheduled to be nothing but a humungous rain fest with cold. This means we’re trapped in the house with them unless we drag them to a mall. We do plan to eat out the whole weekend because that will at least get us out of the house, give them the opportunity to talk (which they won’t do, at least nothing substantial like: why they are coming here, because there has to be a reason other than B’s heart about to explode, which he’s mentioned every time they’re here and how this will be the last chance they have to visit prior to the exploding heart thing), and get us away from the house. This also saves us from the “what do you want to eat” game where they say “whatever you want to eat” and then they complain that they can’t eat whatever we’ve fixed.
Hubby was cursing the fact that he should have shaved before we went to the airport. He’s growing a scruffy beard and it wasn’t until we were driving that he realized that his mother would grab his beard and invade his space and make snide comments about it. Sure enough, the moment they get to us at the security exit (they were the LAST off the plane of course) she turns to me and makes a snide comment about his beard and how old he looks. They can’t just say anything nice about anything, always with the snide back-sided comments.
We drag them to Ruby Tuesdays for dinner. While at the salad bar, B sidles up to me as I’m dishing up lettuce and says “maybe you’ll tell me, because he always avoids answering me, so is his buying a motorcycle a mid-life crisis thing?”. Um, no. Vehicles paid off, he’s always wanted another motorcycle since his last one (years and years ago) died, and we’re now in the position to get one. Ya know, instead of saying how great it was that even in this craptastic economy his son was still in a financial position to be able to afford a motorcycle, and how that is a testament of his success or anything, oh no, he chalks it up to a mid-life crisis thing. How quaint. Apparently my answer (which is the same as the one hubby gave him a while ago) wasn’t sufficient and he gave a grunt as if to say that we were in cahoots and prepared our response together to hid something more insidious or something.
We ate, and got to hear ALL about the horrible golf software (see this post for a reminder) the flight (with its crowded seats) and was asked over and over again about the mid-shipmen from the Naval Academy that we saw at the airport. If you recall, they ask us strange questions that there is just no reason for us to know the answers.
“Where do you think that mid-shipman was going at the airport?”
Um, I don’t know
“Do you think he was going to visit his parents?”
Um, I don’t know
“Could he have been going to his new duty station?”
Um, I don’t know
“When do they graduate? Maybe it was some kind of break”
Um, I don’t know
Now how the frick are we suppose to know where some guy is going?
Its Saturday morning and I’m hiding downstairs with one of our dogs, who is recovering from knee surgery and blissfully unaware of the conversation going on upstairs. I just know that early this morning, hubby (who refuses to take pills) has already asked where the major painkillers were hidden and no doubt took too many of them to prepare for the day. When I go up to shower, I’ll be popping some myself. Thankfully I kept some good ones from a surgery a while back, but I’ll save those in case.
As usual, it was like pulling teeth with rusty pliers to get them to give us their itinerary. First it was: arriving at the airport at 4pm. No flight information. Airports are big with lots of exits, so we requested a bit more information like flight # and exact arrival time. That morning we got the information and girded our loins for the arrival.
The dilemma was that M’s birthday was the 9th of October and we had neglected to get her anything. She’s impossible to shop for because she never tells you what she wants, she never discloses any hobbies, she just expects you to know what she’s expecting from you, so generally I go on the Flower sites, put in a dollar range and pick the first thing of flowers or plants on there and “sign” a card and hope that appeases her. Since she’s thousands of miles away, its not too important whether it does or not, she’s not here, so whatever... but now she’s going to be HERE and we even neglected to send flowers.
We discussed the gift card idea. What could go wrong there, give her a gift card of money and she can get whatever she wants, except hubby points out that she would be miffed at that because its the easy way out and doesn’t show a lot of love and caring. My point is that at least its something and if she’s so ungrateful not to accept SOMETHING, then... well, I won’t go into the “then” part.
We didn’t know if she was still sewing with the expensive machine that does embroidery because we hadn’t received any intricate prisonware shirts with huskies on them that she then goes on and on about how much blood, sweat, and tears it took to create (when all she does is load a shirt and hit a button and the machine whips something out). We decide to let them arrive and try to decipher what she wants and get her that. Impossible at best, since with most visits, they never let us know what they really want to do (we just get “we just want to spend time with you both”) until they’re entering the security line of the airport and then they mention how they are really disappointed that they didn’t get to: insert elaborate sightseeing plan here.
The whole weekend is scheduled to be nothing but a humungous rain fest with cold. This means we’re trapped in the house with them unless we drag them to a mall. We do plan to eat out the whole weekend because that will at least get us out of the house, give them the opportunity to talk (which they won’t do, at least nothing substantial like: why they are coming here, because there has to be a reason other than B’s heart about to explode, which he’s mentioned every time they’re here and how this will be the last chance they have to visit prior to the exploding heart thing), and get us away from the house. This also saves us from the “what do you want to eat” game where they say “whatever you want to eat” and then they complain that they can’t eat whatever we’ve fixed.
Hubby was cursing the fact that he should have shaved before we went to the airport. He’s growing a scruffy beard and it wasn’t until we were driving that he realized that his mother would grab his beard and invade his space and make snide comments about it. Sure enough, the moment they get to us at the security exit (they were the LAST off the plane of course) she turns to me and makes a snide comment about his beard and how old he looks. They can’t just say anything nice about anything, always with the snide back-sided comments.
We drag them to Ruby Tuesdays for dinner. While at the salad bar, B sidles up to me as I’m dishing up lettuce and says “maybe you’ll tell me, because he always avoids answering me, so is his buying a motorcycle a mid-life crisis thing?”. Um, no. Vehicles paid off, he’s always wanted another motorcycle since his last one (years and years ago) died, and we’re now in the position to get one. Ya know, instead of saying how great it was that even in this craptastic economy his son was still in a financial position to be able to afford a motorcycle, and how that is a testament of his success or anything, oh no, he chalks it up to a mid-life crisis thing. How quaint. Apparently my answer (which is the same as the one hubby gave him a while ago) wasn’t sufficient and he gave a grunt as if to say that we were in cahoots and prepared our response together to hid something more insidious or something.
We ate, and got to hear ALL about the horrible golf software (see this post for a reminder) the flight (with its crowded seats) and was asked over and over again about the mid-shipmen from the Naval Academy that we saw at the airport. If you recall, they ask us strange questions that there is just no reason for us to know the answers.
“Where do you think that mid-shipman was going at the airport?”
Um, I don’t know
“Do you think he was going to visit his parents?”
Um, I don’t know
“Could he have been going to his new duty station?”
Um, I don’t know
“When do they graduate? Maybe it was some kind of break”
Um, I don’t know
Now how the frick are we suppose to know where some guy is going?
Its Saturday morning and I’m hiding downstairs with one of our dogs, who is recovering from knee surgery and blissfully unaware of the conversation going on upstairs. I just know that early this morning, hubby (who refuses to take pills) has already asked where the major painkillers were hidden and no doubt took too many of them to prepare for the day. When I go up to shower, I’ll be popping some myself. Thankfully I kept some good ones from a surgery a while back, but I’ll save those in case.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
So, Saturday morning I wake up and M is already awake. I go into the kitchen to get some coffee to face the day and there’s a Harley Davidson night light plugged into a kitchen outlet. Hmmm. I’m guessing this is a gift that appeared from nowhere and no I’m suppose to react to it... except in my un-coffeed state I’m not really sure how to approach this new thing. Normally any “gifts” are revealed with great pomp, circumstance, and with a 4 page typed explanation of the significance of the gift, the story of how it was purchased, and what it means to M and B to give it to us... there was no story of the night light.
I choose to ignore it, but mention it to hubby when he wakes up. He said “hmmm” and chose to ignore it too. Finally M happens to scurry into the kitchen when I went in for a refill and I point to the night light and said “pretty”, and then the floodgates of explanation opened up and she apologized that it was cracked (I didn’t notice) and how she thought it would be perfect for the home what with hubby’s recent Harley purchase and blah blah I lapsed into a coma and didn’t listen to anything else. Inside my head I was wondering why, if it had a sensor, it wasn’t turning off, and whether she would be offended if I pulled it out of the socket because I’m not crazy at all about the air freshners you plug into sockets, let alone a light source that doesn’t seem to turn off on its own. I waited until we left before unplugging it surreptitiously.
The weather has totally sucked, which means locked in house, or locked in car, or locked in a mall, so we opted for the wider open spaces of the mall. Since it is raining and B’s heart will explode at any moment, hubby told us to jump out when he pulled up to the mall and he’d park the car. M and I jumped out, but B didn’t... oh brother. So then I was stuck with M while she bitched about how B doesn’t do anything he’s told unless its his idea and how annoying he was and blah blah blah I didn’t hear the rest because I was looking for a mall cop so I could lay in front of the Segway and be run over... there were no mall cops to be seen.
We got Subway sandwiches to eat. M made this whole elaborate thing about folding the paper that her sandwich was wrapped in, and looking up to see if anyone was noticing how she was elaborately folding the paper of the sandwich as if she wanted someone to ask “WTF are you doing?” Nobody did. As a matter of fact, hubby and I have perfected the “oh gawd don’t look at them because they’ll start talking about stupid crap” eye avoidance technique. Hell, I’ll look under the table if it keeps me from hearing about their friend, Mimi, you probably don’t remember her because she moved into the neighborhood 10 years after you graduated and went into the service, but Mimi started this frame shop and she did such a wonderful job on the things we brought in to be framed, as a matter of fact, we brought in this newspaper article reprint and she told us that she had the most lovely frame for it and asked if she could frame it the way she saw it and if we didn’t like it then she would frame it how we wanted it and she did such a lovely job that we just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the frame was about 5 times more than the print, but we just got it anyway because she was so proud of the frame, anyway, she doesn’t work in that store any more“
You are probably thinking to yourself, as we did, A.) that Mimi screwed you out of a ton of money, and B.) WTF was the point of telling us about Mimi?
This would go hand in hand with her saying, out of the blue: ”So you were telling us how much you enjoy watching the Food Channel... well, we watch a show about all of the hot dog and hamburger places there are, and one time they did donuts and they talked all about Krispy Kreme donuts and how great they were and we were suppose to get a Krispy Kreme shop in town and people waited and waited and finally someone went to Spokane, where there was a Krispy Kreme shop and bought some and brought them back, but we didn’t like them, they said they were suppose to be warm, but these were cold and nobody cared for them and it turns out that they never built the Krispy Kreme shop in town“.
A.) NOBODY mentioned anything about watching the Food channel, we never watch the Food channel so I can only imagine that the voices in her head watch it, and B.) Who gives a rat’s ass about Krispy Kreme donuts?
We ended up at Macaroni Grill later that night and there was a huge ”to do“ about the fact that there was a wine on the menu that was labeled a ”Columbia Valley“ wine, but it was actually a ”Walla Walla“ wine and NOT a ”Columbia Valley“ wine and the history of why it wasn’t considered a ”Columbia Valley“ wine... meanwhile the waiter is standing there patiently wishing for death unless we gave him our order so he could wait on the other 50 tables he had.
Somewhere in the meal, M turns to me and says ”Why do you think Michael Jackson put towels over his kids’ heads?“ I.... don’t..... know
I choose to ignore it, but mention it to hubby when he wakes up. He said “hmmm” and chose to ignore it too. Finally M happens to scurry into the kitchen when I went in for a refill and I point to the night light and said “pretty”, and then the floodgates of explanation opened up and she apologized that it was cracked (I didn’t notice) and how she thought it would be perfect for the home what with hubby’s recent Harley purchase and blah blah I lapsed into a coma and didn’t listen to anything else. Inside my head I was wondering why, if it had a sensor, it wasn’t turning off, and whether she would be offended if I pulled it out of the socket because I’m not crazy at all about the air freshners you plug into sockets, let alone a light source that doesn’t seem to turn off on its own. I waited until we left before unplugging it surreptitiously.
The weather has totally sucked, which means locked in house, or locked in car, or locked in a mall, so we opted for the wider open spaces of the mall. Since it is raining and B’s heart will explode at any moment, hubby told us to jump out when he pulled up to the mall and he’d park the car. M and I jumped out, but B didn’t... oh brother. So then I was stuck with M while she bitched about how B doesn’t do anything he’s told unless its his idea and how annoying he was and blah blah blah I didn’t hear the rest because I was looking for a mall cop so I could lay in front of the Segway and be run over... there were no mall cops to be seen.
We got Subway sandwiches to eat. M made this whole elaborate thing about folding the paper that her sandwich was wrapped in, and looking up to see if anyone was noticing how she was elaborately folding the paper of the sandwich as if she wanted someone to ask “WTF are you doing?” Nobody did. As a matter of fact, hubby and I have perfected the “oh gawd don’t look at them because they’ll start talking about stupid crap” eye avoidance technique. Hell, I’ll look under the table if it keeps me from hearing about their friend, Mimi, you probably don’t remember her because she moved into the neighborhood 10 years after you graduated and went into the service, but Mimi started this frame shop and she did such a wonderful job on the things we brought in to be framed, as a matter of fact, we brought in this newspaper article reprint and she told us that she had the most lovely frame for it and asked if she could frame it the way she saw it and if we didn’t like it then she would frame it how we wanted it and she did such a lovely job that we just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the frame was about 5 times more than the print, but we just got it anyway because she was so proud of the frame, anyway, she doesn’t work in that store any more“
You are probably thinking to yourself, as we did, A.) that Mimi screwed you out of a ton of money, and B.) WTF was the point of telling us about Mimi?
This would go hand in hand with her saying, out of the blue: ”So you were telling us how much you enjoy watching the Food Channel... well, we watch a show about all of the hot dog and hamburger places there are, and one time they did donuts and they talked all about Krispy Kreme donuts and how great they were and we were suppose to get a Krispy Kreme shop in town and people waited and waited and finally someone went to Spokane, where there was a Krispy Kreme shop and bought some and brought them back, but we didn’t like them, they said they were suppose to be warm, but these were cold and nobody cared for them and it turns out that they never built the Krispy Kreme shop in town“.
A.) NOBODY mentioned anything about watching the Food channel, we never watch the Food channel so I can only imagine that the voices in her head watch it, and B.) Who gives a rat’s ass about Krispy Kreme donuts?
We ended up at Macaroni Grill later that night and there was a huge ”to do“ about the fact that there was a wine on the menu that was labeled a ”Columbia Valley“ wine, but it was actually a ”Walla Walla“ wine and NOT a ”Columbia Valley“ wine and the history of why it wasn’t considered a ”Columbia Valley“ wine... meanwhile the waiter is standing there patiently wishing for death unless we gave him our order so he could wait on the other 50 tables he had.
Somewhere in the meal, M turns to me and says ”Why do you think Michael Jackson put towels over his kids’ heads?“ I.... don’t..... know
Sunday, 18 October 2009
I apologize for not updating the rest of the trip for a while. I was hiding in bed, keening and rocking back and forth from the last few days of the visit, unable to think coherently for a while.
On Sunday it was raining again and we decided to take them on the tour of both Harley Davidson shops in town, just to get them out of the house. Since it was around 11 am, we decided to stop for breakfast and went to the usual Denny's, but there was a line a mile long waiting for a table. We opted to go to the Bob Evans near the airport (and there was some joking about taking them to the airport a day early and they were only half-hearted jokes).
We managed to get some food and had the usual uncomfortable silences and staring off into space to avoid eye contact. M offered her potato soup to everyone at the table... um, no thanks, as she was the only one NOT having breakfast and apparently that miffed her.
On the ride to the Harley stores we were bombarded by the usual strange questions:
"Why doesn't anyone live in that house?" Don't know
"Why are they fixing this road?" Don't know
"How many motorcycles do they sell here?" Don't know
"Are there any eagles here?" There are hawks, and some buzzards. "Oh, buzzards, where are they?" I don't know. "I would think they would have eagles here" um "I wonder why there are no eagles here" (I was going to say they were in Philadelphia, but I'm sure that would have brought on more questions since they wouldn't get the joke and kept my mouth shut)
We ended up back home and around 4pm we decided to go out for dinner. They were a bit taken aback by eating again, even though it had been 5 hours since our last meal, and frankly we were at a loss as to what to do with them at the house, since all they did was sit and stare and ask questions about tv shows.
Before we left, M approaches me and says:
"Did I happen to notice that in your bathroom you had some of that stuff that you can put on your hands?"
You mean hand lotion?
"No, if one were to, oh, say, pick a skin sore and cause it to bleed..."
band-aid?
"No, the ointment one would put on their skin if they had a sore"
Neosporin?
"Yes, you see Bob always says that I pick at these sores and cause them to bleed and he tells me all the time to stop picking at them...."
At this point I fled into the bathroom to get the neosporine and avoid hearing any more about bleeding sores.
Why can't she just ask for neosporine?
We decided to go to Outback and along the way we also decided to plan their departure.
What time do you need to be at the airport?
"Well, the flight leaves at 8, and they say to be at the airport 2 hours early"
So you need to be at the airport at 6?
"Well, they said 2 hours early"
Ok, so how much time do you need to get ready?
"We can be ready in 15 minutes"
Ok, so that means we should probably get up around 5am, now do you want to go out for breakfast before you go to the airport.
Simple question, right? Apparently not
M starts in with how she's got some crackers and how they could possibly survive if they would get some of our delicious coffee before they left the house...
So you don't want to go for breakfast in the morning?
"Well, if one would want breakfast in the morning, what time would one have to get up in order to get breakfast in the morning?"
This went on for about 15 minutes, back and forth, back and forth... just answer the freakin question, if you want breakfast, we'll get up early enough to go, if you don't... AAAAAAAAAAHHH
So, it was finally determined that a stop at Starbucks would be sufficient.
We had a nice meal at Outback, with a discussion about digital photography, which M was not happy about because she's not interested in photography and therefore could do nothing except butt into the conversation with non-subject matter comments, and typically critical snippy comments directed at B.
That conversation continued after we got home where Hubby and B sat down to look over the photography computer program that Hubby uses... except M just couldn't keep out of it and kept interrupted, at which point hubby snapped at her... and she ran off into the guest room crying. I was oblivious to all this drama because I was nestled downstairs with the dog watching tv.
Since we would need to get up extremely early to not have breakfast, but get them to the airport on time, we decided to go to bed earlier than normal.
On Sunday it was raining again and we decided to take them on the tour of both Harley Davidson shops in town, just to get them out of the house. Since it was around 11 am, we decided to stop for breakfast and went to the usual Denny's, but there was a line a mile long waiting for a table. We opted to go to the Bob Evans near the airport (and there was some joking about taking them to the airport a day early and they were only half-hearted jokes).
We managed to get some food and had the usual uncomfortable silences and staring off into space to avoid eye contact. M offered her potato soup to everyone at the table... um, no thanks, as she was the only one NOT having breakfast and apparently that miffed her.
On the ride to the Harley stores we were bombarded by the usual strange questions:
"Why doesn't anyone live in that house?" Don't know
"Why are they fixing this road?" Don't know
"How many motorcycles do they sell here?" Don't know
"Are there any eagles here?" There are hawks, and some buzzards. "Oh, buzzards, where are they?" I don't know. "I would think they would have eagles here" um "I wonder why there are no eagles here" (I was going to say they were in Philadelphia, but I'm sure that would have brought on more questions since they wouldn't get the joke and kept my mouth shut)
We ended up back home and around 4pm we decided to go out for dinner. They were a bit taken aback by eating again, even though it had been 5 hours since our last meal, and frankly we were at a loss as to what to do with them at the house, since all they did was sit and stare and ask questions about tv shows.
Before we left, M approaches me and says:
"Did I happen to notice that in your bathroom you had some of that stuff that you can put on your hands?"
You mean hand lotion?
"No, if one were to, oh, say, pick a skin sore and cause it to bleed..."
band-aid?
"No, the ointment one would put on their skin if they had a sore"
Neosporin?
"Yes, you see Bob always says that I pick at these sores and cause them to bleed and he tells me all the time to stop picking at them...."
At this point I fled into the bathroom to get the neosporine and avoid hearing any more about bleeding sores.
Why can't she just ask for neosporine?
We decided to go to Outback and along the way we also decided to plan their departure.
What time do you need to be at the airport?
"Well, the flight leaves at 8, and they say to be at the airport 2 hours early"
So you need to be at the airport at 6?
"Well, they said 2 hours early"
Ok, so how much time do you need to get ready?
"We can be ready in 15 minutes"
Ok, so that means we should probably get up around 5am, now do you want to go out for breakfast before you go to the airport.
Simple question, right? Apparently not
M starts in with how she's got some crackers and how they could possibly survive if they would get some of our delicious coffee before they left the house...
So you don't want to go for breakfast in the morning?
"Well, if one would want breakfast in the morning, what time would one have to get up in order to get breakfast in the morning?"
This went on for about 15 minutes, back and forth, back and forth... just answer the freakin question, if you want breakfast, we'll get up early enough to go, if you don't... AAAAAAAAAAHHH
So, it was finally determined that a stop at Starbucks would be sufficient.
We had a nice meal at Outback, with a discussion about digital photography, which M was not happy about because she's not interested in photography and therefore could do nothing except butt into the conversation with non-subject matter comments, and typically critical snippy comments directed at B.
That conversation continued after we got home where Hubby and B sat down to look over the photography computer program that Hubby uses... except M just couldn't keep out of it and kept interrupted, at which point hubby snapped at her... and she ran off into the guest room crying. I was oblivious to all this drama because I was nestled downstairs with the dog watching tv.
Since we would need to get up extremely early to not have breakfast, but get them to the airport on time, we decided to go to bed earlier than normal.
Excuse Me 9/9/2012
The reason I haven't updated this blog in quite some time is because I figured out that if I send my husband out to the West Coast once a year, that means he can visit with his brother and parents and I don't have to deal with anything.
It was a brilliant plan. I sit around all week and not cook, enjoying some "me" time alone while hubby gets to pal around with his brother, then they call the parents and they drive over to visit with their sons.
Of course, upon arriving home, I get to hear all of the infuriating details of the visit, which is reminiscent of actual visits here (would you like some of my creme brûlée? Just a little bit of creme brûlée? Why don't you want any of my creme brûlée? I could put it between two slices of bread, make a sandwich out of it).
Per our usual routine, we head to Denny's (because Maryland is devoid of any decent non-franchised places to eat) so he can detox and tell me all of the details of the trip.
Shortly after telling me all about the wonderful place they got liquored up coffee made by a guy that set things on fire and juggled the flaming coffee cups, he added "Oh, and they'll be coming for a visit next month"
Me, with a slice of bacon hanging out of my mouth "wha?"
"Just for the weekend" hubby says as he oozes under the table.
Me, as bacon falls out of my mouth "excuse me?"
I knew he waited until now to tell me because he felt that since we were in a public place, I wouldn't go full bat shit crazy... he was wrong.
"SERIOUSLY????"
"They said they miss you."
"ME? SERIOUSLY?"
"It's just for a weekend"
Oh right, just for the weekend. Last "just for a weekend" visit started on a Thursday and ended on a Wednesday, that's not a "weekend" that's a freakin WEEK!
He could tell I was scheming, probably because my eyes were spinning "No, you aren't going to suddenly have a business trip come up."
"Don't be ridiculous, of course I wouldn't do that... because you haven't told me when they'll be here, so how on earth can I plan anything suddenly when I don't know what date to suddenly have something come up?"
He made the international hand signal to keep your voice down before Denny's management calls the cops. "They're coming this way to do something else, so they're just stopping in"
Yeah, I've heard THAT one before too. "When will they be here?"
"I don't know, they gave me some dates, but you know how I am about remembering things, so I told them to e-mail me".
Oh, you sneaky, sneaky husband... plausible deniability! That means he won't be able to tell me because he doesn't know, and then at the last minute will pronounce "oh, the parents will be here this weekend" crap and then there's no way I can make my escape.
So, I'm sure that all of your dear readers are rejoicing that there will be new installments of Heirloom Horrors on the way. You suck, seriously.
It was a brilliant plan. I sit around all week and not cook, enjoying some "me" time alone while hubby gets to pal around with his brother, then they call the parents and they drive over to visit with their sons.
Of course, upon arriving home, I get to hear all of the infuriating details of the visit, which is reminiscent of actual visits here (would you like some of my creme brûlée? Just a little bit of creme brûlée? Why don't you want any of my creme brûlée? I could put it between two slices of bread, make a sandwich out of it).
Per our usual routine, we head to Denny's (because Maryland is devoid of any decent non-franchised places to eat) so he can detox and tell me all of the details of the trip.
Shortly after telling me all about the wonderful place they got liquored up coffee made by a guy that set things on fire and juggled the flaming coffee cups, he added "Oh, and they'll be coming for a visit next month"
Me, with a slice of bacon hanging out of my mouth "wha?"
"Just for the weekend" hubby says as he oozes under the table.
Me, as bacon falls out of my mouth "excuse me?"
I knew he waited until now to tell me because he felt that since we were in a public place, I wouldn't go full bat shit crazy... he was wrong.
"SERIOUSLY????"
"They said they miss you."
"ME? SERIOUSLY?"
"It's just for a weekend"
Oh right, just for the weekend. Last "just for a weekend" visit started on a Thursday and ended on a Wednesday, that's not a "weekend" that's a freakin WEEK!
He could tell I was scheming, probably because my eyes were spinning "No, you aren't going to suddenly have a business trip come up."
"Don't be ridiculous, of course I wouldn't do that... because you haven't told me when they'll be here, so how on earth can I plan anything suddenly when I don't know what date to suddenly have something come up?"
He made the international hand signal to keep your voice down before Denny's management calls the cops. "They're coming this way to do something else, so they're just stopping in"
Yeah, I've heard THAT one before too. "When will they be here?"
"I don't know, they gave me some dates, but you know how I am about remembering things, so I told them to e-mail me".
Oh, you sneaky, sneaky husband... plausible deniability! That means he won't be able to tell me because he doesn't know, and then at the last minute will pronounce "oh, the parents will be here this weekend" crap and then there's no way I can make my escape.
So, I'm sure that all of your dear readers are rejoicing that there will be new installments of Heirloom Horrors on the way. You suck, seriously.
4 More Days10/14/2012
Only four more days until the in-laws arrive. I spent most of the weekend cleaning out the guest room, doing laundry, and vacuuming. Good enough.
Hubby got a call from them last week saying they were bringing a crate of apples and some donuts. Wha?
Yes, apparently, once again, they don't think we have grocery stores here, or that we can purchase apples from their home state because supply chains aren't that extensive to the East Coast, so how can we be expected to buy Washington State apples... at the local Safeway... year round.
The donuts... no clue.
Anyways, we joked about how M would fit a whole crate of apples and donuts in her purse and make it through TSA screening, but apparently they've contacted the airlines and made arrangements, which I'm sure will go without a hitch.
Do I really want to eat donuts and apples that have gone through radiation, bomb sniffing machines, handled by TSA workers (who knows what they do to things, other than steal them)? That answer would be "no". I'm not going to eat any of it. I may pretend to, only to spit it out, but really? Euw.
I'm in denial that they're actually coming.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Hubby got a call from them last week saying they were bringing a crate of apples and some donuts. Wha?
Yes, apparently, once again, they don't think we have grocery stores here, or that we can purchase apples from their home state because supply chains aren't that extensive to the East Coast, so how can we be expected to buy Washington State apples... at the local Safeway... year round.
The donuts... no clue.
Anyways, we joked about how M would fit a whole crate of apples and donuts in her purse and make it through TSA screening, but apparently they've contacted the airlines and made arrangements, which I'm sure will go without a hitch.
Do I really want to eat donuts and apples that have gone through radiation, bomb sniffing machines, handled by TSA workers (who knows what they do to things, other than steal them)? That answer would be "no". I'm not going to eat any of it. I may pretend to, only to spit it out, but really? Euw.
I'm in denial that they're actually coming.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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