PrixMadonna

Shortly thereafter, the hub and I left for vacation. We left my sister to fend for herself with the petting zoo, and although I kind of felt guilty about that, she kind of deserved it. You know, showing up with two cats and all.

She started grad school the same week she arrived, and I desperately tried to get ready for the vacation.

The vacation, planned by the hub by his lonesome, consisted of a two day drive to Michigan (yes, Michigan) with a stop at Frankenmuth, Michigan�s little Bavaria. The destination? A lighthouse convention with several hundred freaks on an island. Sound great? You don�t even know the half of it, people.

So, with much confusion and angst, we get packed and finally depart, running later than we�d hoped. You�d think I could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy the upcoming week off, wouldn�t you? I mean, despite the lighthouses and the freaks, I�m going to be on an island with no cars, away from everything, with the hub. I�ll be traveling with the hub and actually get to spend time with him and talk to him. We�re going to hit a kitschy Epcot-inspired town. This should be great.

You�d think that, but you would be wrong.

I started to actually relax and enjoy the escape from le quotidien, but lo and behold, somewhere in West Virginia my cell phone started to beep that I had messages. I guess I had about a half-second of reception that I could receive that update, but I could not call anyone back. There were a bunch of pages to call my home phone number, but I could not do squat.

When I finally did get through to my sister, she was nearing hysteria. It turns out that my mother-in-law had called and said that she had brought a bunch of stuff of ours down from NJ, where it had been residing. She was coming to our house to drop it off.

Now folks, this is a problem. Why, you ask? Well, to shorthand it, my mother-in-law is a bitch.

Now, that may sound to some like strong language, or perhaps it sounds like a trivial complaint that any individual has about in-laws. In my case, it is a friendlier term for the woman who is a manipulative and petty woman.

To give some background on this, I�d just like to state for the record that I tried extremely hard to be friends with the woman who did me the great service of conceiving, bearing and rearing my husband. For this, I cannot be more thankful. I adore this man, and I appreciate that she gave him the gift of life.

That said, she is a nasty, nasty person with whom I have determined I will just not be able to have a relationship. Water and oil, end of story.*

So, my mother-in-law just decides to show up, without more notice other than a phone call to my sister that she is on the way.

Why just then? Well, she had come into town to visit my husband�s brother�s family. The only reason I knew anything of this was that my sister-in-law had told me my mother-in-law would be there. (That�s another factor, we�re never visited by my husband�s parents and never told there will be a visit to the Richmond area unless it is after they�ve gotten here and they want to get together for dinner. We generally do not have an issue with this, though I think they want us to, because it is easier for us that way.)

Here are the reasons we really did not want the mother-in-law to come to the house at that moment:

First of all, our house is a gigantic mess, perhaps even more so than usual, considering the recent changes. It is under mass construction. It is over one hundred and fifty years old, and we love it and consider this process an adventure. Let�s just say that my husband�s mother, well she�s not so supportive of this task. She does not get it. We do not need any negative feedback, after all we are the ones living with the plaster dust and holes in our floors, thanks so much. That�s hard enough without the constant negative barrage that is produced by this woman.

Secondly, in addition to being the queen of the negative comments, she does not like animals. The week before, when the hub had been traveling with his dog when he went to NJ, she demanded to know why he had to bring her with him. In addition to him enjoying the company of his furry traveling companion, he told her that he didn�t want to leave me with all three dogs to tend. (He�s considerate like that.) She told him that if we couldn�t handle having three dogs, we shouldn�t have them. (See what I mean, people?) You can imagine the field day she�d have with the newly formed animal assemblage that is now residing in our house. Not that it�s any of her goddamned business, mind you, but we just avoid conflict with her because it�s just so much easier.

Finally, my sister was trying to help my mom move into my parents� house, and was stressed out because, hey, it�s our parents. Parents can be stressful. You know what�s even more stressful, though? The parent of your sister�s husband who just also happens to be a grade A ,self-centered harpy.

Well, I�ve gotten off the storyline, haven�t I? Let�s recap: Me trying to get into vacation mode, frantic sister trying to get off the hook with my in-laws because she�s busy and no one warned her about the arrival of the meta bitch, me having no phone reception to handle any of this.

We finally find a location on I64 that gives us spotty reception, so we pull over. On top of everything, it�s raining, so I can�t get out of the car to stand up or walk around or anything, and we�re in the middle of nowhere. I do the only thing I can think of, which is to call my sister-in-law. She�s usually a kind of mother-in-law support system, and she knows about the animal situation because I told her what happened with the evil comment and asked her not to tell the woman about our animal situation because of it. She should understand, right? She could stop this, right? Smooth it over, occupy the evil, or something. I overestimate human decency, people. I should know better.

No help there, and it turns out that the gorgon and her spawn, my husband�s brother, are already on their way, even though my sister tried to explain to them that she could not meet them.

The hub calls his brother�s cell phone. The phone gets passed back and forth between the nephilim, until finally the hub, who is usually the most even, calm person in the world (the opposite of me), starts getting the redness, the horrible, blotchy redness growing up his neck and face that is finally accompanied by the terrible, pulsing vein in his neck that only shows for the nefarious brood which is his family.

In a nutshell:

The mother is angry at the hub for not giving her itinerary and didn�t know we�d even be gone. (Big fat lie, people, I totally told her when I called to appease her for another entirely different incident less than two weeks before. How do I specifically remember this? The hub told me afterward not to go into too much detail because he was afraid that she would pull the You have enough time to do blah-blah-blah but you can�t do anything for your mother? speech.)

The hub is angry that the mother didn�t call first, particularly since she got into town the night before.

The mother says she shouldn�t have to make an appointment with her own son and she was just trying to help us and no one appreciates her and she�s the victim here and he should keep her posted on our every move and the hub never calls her.

The brother is getting off on this, since he always tries to win World�s Best Son awards and does this in part by trying to knock down the only competition, who is the hub. He inflates the problem. He also refuses to hold the stuff in his garage until we get back. Then he attacks my sister saying that she is somehow responsible for this.

Anyway, amongst all this watching my husband look like he�s about to have an aneurysm, the pettiness, the attack on my husband and sister (which is a bad way to go with me, don�t ever fuck with my family), and the discovery that what the iniquitous demon moved were my undergraduate thesis paintings that are extremely fragile, I lost my shit.

So, to review:
� No cell phone reception in West Virginia. (Keep this in mind when you�re traveling people. Nothing but coal mines and trailer parks as far as the eye can see.)

� Tired stressed out people on the phone. (ie: the hub and yours truly)

� Tired stressed out person starting grad school, with parents moving in nearby and small to mid-sized zoo to care for. (ie: my sister, though there may be cosmic retribution involved for bringing cats)

� Mother-in-law is a bitch. (see below for the fleshing out of this thesis)

� Brother-in-law is a sissy mama�s boy who wants to win some contest that exists only in his mind but is encouraged by afore mentioned mother-in-law.

Conclusion:
I am not proud of this, in fact I am extremely disappointed that I let this get to me, but please keep in mind of the years of build up I had working me up. I dropped my basket, to quote Rebecca Wells, and had what I can only describe as a nervous breakdown.

This consisted of me pounding my fists and shouting �I hate your whole fucking family! They are vile, miserable hateful people. Why do they have to be so hateful? I hate them! I fucking hate them! They are wretched! I hate them!� like a child with some condition where she can�t control herself. Yeah, that really helped the situation. Good one, me.

I completely lost my shit. Well, the brother-in-law, who was on the phone at the time, of course told his evil matriarch which has resulted in the grand prize of my being her current object of animosity. Which is actually a gift for her, since that is exactly what she wants. Now she has her conflict and her nemesis and can bide her time vilifying me to the rest of the family, just as others have come before me. I�ve been in this position before, but not to this extent, so I think I deserve some kind of award for not only for being the worst wife ever and having no control of my emotions or actions, but also for being some kind of super villain. I am the Lex Luther of daughter-in-laws. I want a costume, stat.

So, the hub has banned the �h word� from my vocabulary. He says he doesn�t like the person I become when I use it. I guess I don�t either, but the childishness in me thinks we should ban his mother. And his jerky brother. Stupid dummies.

In other (current) news, I have an interview shortly. And we had a meeting for the neighborhood association last night that I should tell you about because it was funny, but I�m kind of written-out right now.

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*Here�s how it goes: my mother-in-law loves conflict. If there isn�t conflict, she must create it.

She also needs a nemesis at all times. This has come in various forms as her emotions waffle and she sees it fit to deem grace on those around her. Nemeses have come in the form of my husband�s cousin, his sister-in-law, his aunt, a woman who worked for her and on several occasions, me.

Oh, and anyone who is Indian or Pakistani. Or Jewish. And Mexicans. She has colorful names for racial groups with which she has distaste. These hatreds are far-reaching and embarrassing.

---For instance, the time my husband�s family humiliated us in a restaurant for his birthday by making fun of the wait staff and brushing off our objections with the loud convictions that, �They can�t understand us. None of them ever speak English.�---

These are just some of the issues I have with my mother-in-law. In the past I have left her home in tears because I did not stand up to her when she made racist statements, believing I was a bad person for not standing up for what is right or for what I believe.

She is also cruel to people. I have watched her gain pleasure from doing mean things to people. I h-word her for that.

She also once threatened my dog with a carving knife. I have a witness to this, so it is a verifiable occurrence. This and the fact that she is a vehement wearer of fur has caused the hub and me to bestow the name Cruella upon her, and also to frequently repeat, �Get me those puppies!� when referring to her.

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