There is some big time drama happening in G’s side of the gene pool. For once, it has nothing to do with me. Yipee!
One of G’s cousins has had some marital difficulties lately. Primarily stemming from his wife being unfaithful. This is very sad, they have been together many years (close to 30) and it has been very hard on him, his wife (yes, really) and his kids. But, he and his wife have decided to reconcile and she has moved back to their family home. Which is great news (hey, if they’re happy about it, who am I to judge!). However, his aunts (read G’s mom and whichever sisters she’s talking to today) are not happy about this situation at all. You might ask “What’s to them?” and I would agree. They would (and by “they” I mean P, G’s mother) defend their right to butt in and make drama.
So, tonight there is a funeral. G’s cousin’s father has passed. It’s a very bittersweet time for their family, as yesterday they welcomed their first grandchild. Very emotional. Not a time for stirring up unnecessary drama. So, leave it to P to decide that it’s EXACTLY the time to stir up some unnecessary, and frankly inappropriate drama. That’s right folks my MIL, yes, this one, is going to a funeral to DEMAND an apology to the family and to her nephew from the “cheating whore.” While normally the very idea of this would have me laughing my ass off* and popping some popcorn for the show, I’m not so jacked up about it because these people have been through enough already this year.
I thought you would all enjoy a sneak peek into the 1st layer of hell, which is life with P as my MIL.
* I don’t recall if I blogged about this, I think I did not, but I have received exactly one apology from P in 17+ years. It was Sweetest Day 2008. She called me at something ungodly like 7:30am on a Saturday. Big C was still asleep and G was stick fighting with his friends (I assume this means they went to a park and hit each other with sticks, but we have a don’t ask don’t tell policy about these kinds of things, I have no desire to imagine my hubs and his buds fighting with sticks or whatever the hell else stick fighting may mean). Anyhizzle, she called to wish me a Happy Sweetest Day. Knowing good and damn well that on Saturday, I don’t get up until Big C does, which is usually around IDK 9’ish. At least it was then, he sleeps later now. So, I know she’s up to something, but decide to play nice. She then proceeds to tell me a story about her sister S and S’s grandson (Pr) getting into a fight over Pr’s girlfriend. What she didn’t know was that I had spoken with Pr and his girlfriend the night before. I actually advised the GF to “run as far and fast as she could from this band of loon’s unless she was so in love with Pr that she could see marrying into this lot.” So, I was aware that her 60+ year old sister had driven to a 17 year old girls house and called her a “fat whore” (P’s fav nickname for your truly), and threatened to “kick her ass” (another fav threat of P’s when I was underage, please note she hasn’t pulled that shit since I’ve been old enough to defend myself). I was already aware that she had gone to the girls parents and tried to rat her out for being sexually active and when that didn’t work made up lies (I swear these bitches play from the same book). So, when P started in on the poor sister S and how that girl Pr’s dating is giving her so much trouble… That GF is a real piece of work, she’s using Pr and sister S doesn’t know what to do… and I responded with “Well, certainly calling an underage girl nasty names and threatening her with physical violence and lying to her parents should have done something to get rid of her if she’s really just using Pr. I mean it didn’t work on me, but then I obviously wasn’t just using G as we’ve now been together more than 15 years.” To this La Diabla (P’s other name…) began shouting and cursing and denying any such behavior. At which, of course, I lost my shit on her, shouted so loudly I woke Big C, told her that other sisters depression was her fault and I’d want to commit suicide if I were related to her by blood and hung up. Naturally she called back immediately with an apology. An apology for starting a fight so early in the morning? An apology for being such a raging bitch for 15 years? An apology for what? Her message went something like this:
– Minta…. I’m sorry YOU can’t let go of the past. I’m sorry YOU have found some kind friendship with this girl Pr’s dating (mind you Pr came to ME because he knew what La Diabla had put me through). I’m sorry YOU can’t let bygones be bygones. But, I don’t know that girl, and I don’t have anything to do with her and if you know something about my sister then call me back.
Also, you’ll recall I requested an apology once from her and that request was met with crickets.
So, this is why I think the very idea of her DEMANDING an apology is H-I-L-A-R-I-O-U-S.