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Okay, I�ve been talking about writing this entry for a while now, so here goes nothing. Step into my parlor, and let me tell you a story about a woman I like to call my Demonic Mother-In-Law, hereafter referred to as DMIL. First, a little background on my relationship with Nick. When I met Nick, I was working as a manager at an auto parts store. I hired Nick to be a part time cashier. We got to talking one day, and it came out that I had never seen a porn movie. (I really hadn�t.) He said he�d bring one in, because everyone has seen at least one porn in their life. When I told him I had no VCR, he showed up at my apartment with a VCR, a nasty porn, and also one normal movie to watch. I think it was Animal House or something of that nature. So, we watched about five minutes of the porn before I told him to turn it off because it was disgusting. I still don�t get the porn thing. Sorry. After that, he ended up coming over more and more often. Did I mention I had a boyfriend at the time? Well, I did, but he was in boot camp (correctional, not military � he was a prize) and therefore wasn�t there. He did have his creepy friends stalking me, though, which was lovely. Word soon got back to him that there was this guy at the apartment all the time and he called me crying and told me that I�d better get him out of there. Obviously I didn�t listen, because Nick moved in a month or so later. The night Nick moved in, I got a call on my cell phone from his mother. How she got the number I still don�t know. She told me that I was making a big mistake letting her son move in because he was a lazy piece of shit who would bring me nothing but trouble. She told me he was far too irresponsible for a relationship and he was just using me for my money and a place to crash. Now, let�s not forget that I had never seen or spoken to this woman ever before in my life, and here she was telling me to kick her son out of my apartment. Telling me how I should be living my life (�a girl like you shouldn�t be mixed up with any guys now anyway�, I never figured out what that meant) and that her son is worthless. I finally got her to shut the hell up long enough to tell her I had to go, and I told Nick what she�d said. He didn�t seem surprised, just told me to ignore her. That should have been the first red flag, but I was in love or whatever so I just forgot about it. When she finally accepted the fact that he was going to be staying with me (he was staying with her ex-husband at the time because she kicked him out at sixteen, so it�s not like it made a big difference in her life), she decided she was going to decorate our apartment. Not help us decorate it, not listen to our ideas for how we wanted it to look, but just decorate the damn thing herself. Which is how I ended up with florals and dark greens, both of which I despise. She walked through the apartment rolling her eyes at my furniture (�It�s not even real wood. It�s particle board. How cheap.� I was nineteen!) and telling me how ugly my dishes were. I suppose I should be grateful for the stuff she bought, because some of it was actually needed, but the way she went about things was all wrong and very offensive to me. But, I tried to be nice. After all, Nick and I had just gotten together and I didn�t want to start out on the wrong foot. Well, things got worse and worse. She suddenly decided that Nick needed to pay her back for things like books for school and clothes she�d bought him when he was sixteen and all manner of nonsense. She demanded weekly payments. When we told her we were pregnant, she told us we were ruining her life. Her life. One minute after I gave birth to Lukas, while the doctor was still stitching me up, while my legs were still in the stirrups, she announced she couldn�t wait any longer to see her baby and marched right into the delivery room, pushing past a nurse that told her to wait a few minutes. Then whenever she babysat, she messed his schedule up so bad it would take days to get him back on track. She wouldn�t measure the formula, something that drove me up the wall. She�d just pour (way too much) powder into the bottle, add a dash of water, and shake it up. Then she�d wonder why he was so sleepy. Duh. When we began to feed him solids, we were very cautious because there is a history of food allergy in my family. She would feed him whatever she wanted to, with no regard for what I asked her to do. She forced bananas on him (which he couldn�t tolerate for some reason, he�d puke them up every time) so many times he couldn�t eat them until a few months ago. Her reasoning was that she liked bananas, so Lukas must too. There are a million more examples of this, but now I must move on to the snobbery. She will not own anything that is not a brand name. If you own something that is not a brand name, she will attempt to shame you by announcing its clear inferiority to a roomful of people. Everything she has is better than yours, make no mistake about that. Even if it really isn�t, it is better just because it lives in her house. She has two dogs that are her children. They are huge labs. If you�ve been reading for a while, you may know that I hate dogs. (Sorry.) She lets them knock my kids over and lick their faces, which makes me gag to even think about, but if you say anything she�ll trill about how you�ve hurt her feelings. Feelings, that�s another thing. She really thinks that everyone loves her. She actually thinks this. Despite the fact that the minute someone�s back is turned, those claws of hers come out and she will rip them to shreds. And then, of course, she will giggle and say it must be the PMS that makes her so bitchy. All the time? Not physically possible, thanks for playing. I�m thinking it must be menopause, if she must blame it on something hormonal. You can always tell when she�s talking smack about someone because she cackles. Just like a witch. She�s very loud and crass, but considers herself the height of class. If she finds out someone doesn�t like her, she will badger that person until they relent and say yes, of course you�re the most wonderful person in the world. She talks shit about all her friends and then wonders why they never answer the phone when she calls. Caller ID, honey. She bitches about how people never stop talking, but once she gets you on the phone, you�d better get comfortable. She calls Lukas �Lukas Macrukas� and Nickolas �Nickolas Pickolas.� Gag. No matter how many times I�ve asked her not to because it makes me retch. She calls me �Bethie.� I fucking hate it when people call me Bethie. Even though I have said that exact sentence to her, she continues to call me Bethie. If my mother wanted me to be called Bethie, that is what she would have named me. We also have a girl at work named Jeanette. She calls her, alternately, Jeanett-ay or Jeanett-ie. So annoying. At work, she is even worse. She acts like the queen of the office and if you screw up her ever-changing system, she will proceed to make you feel like the smallest piece of shit on the bottom of her shoe and she will make sure everyone hears her do it. She has cost three people their jobs, just by badgering the boss into firing them because of some imagined slight (one girl she thought was hitting on her husband, and trust me, I was there, it didn't happen) and still talks about them to this day, saying how unlucky the agencies that hired them are. She makes fun of people when she doesn't think they can hear her, but they can. Everyone here hates her, but she thinks she's Miss Popularity. She has screaming fights with her husband on the phone right in the middle of the office at least once a week, but will report anyone on a personal phone call to the boss immediately. Okay, that�s really enough. I could go on for pages. She has a good point or two also, but it's awfully hard to get past all the bad ones to see them. If you�re still reading this, I�m amazed you made it through. That is the story of DMIL. I�m sure there will be more as years go by. Just yesterday she asked me when I was going to do something about all the weight I�ve gained. Smile and nod. Smile. And. Nod. Kids are: New Sarah McLachlan? Score! Last person who pissed me off: Thinking about all this, must be DMIL. Heard in my house: The house we looked at yesterday works out. Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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