Goodbye giant gallon-size container of cranberry juice hogging so much of the fridge!
Goodbye silent-but-palpable judgments!
Goodbye non-silent judgments!
Goodbye “duh” noise!
Goodbye noticing everything I do and buy!
Goodbye still not realizing in your sixties that different people have different ideas and make different decisions, and that that does not make them “idiots”!
Goodbye not liking our older children!
Goodbye eating in 2 minutes and not saying anything nice about the food!
Goodbye soft-boiled egg every single goddamned morning!
Goodbye wanting everything cooked without salt or fat!
Goodbye not realizing you like bland food because you’re OLD, not because “everyone” adds “so much seasoning to everything”!
Goodbye making critical remarks about everyone and everything in the world and then adding “But they didn’t ask me!”
Goodbye, “hamburg”! Also, it’s ground turkey.
Goodbye password-protect on my computer!
Goodbye having to hide my journals!
Goodbye implausible stories about how evil and stupid other people are, and even more implausible stories about how righteous and intelligent you are!
Goodbye claiming you need us to provide “plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables” and then eating nothing but the canned corn and the iceberg lettuce!
Goodbye sitting in the passenger seat with your purse neatly on your lap!
Goodbye sitting in a recliner telling me which children are crying or need their noses wiped!
Goodbye unkind comments about weight, you fat troll!
Oh, Swistle. Hooray! I was going to say last night, but will say now instead, that at some point, these stories stopped being shocking and just sort of started being so…pathetic and hilarious. I mean, I think, in your shoes, I would probably by now just have trouble not laughing hysterically at everything. I would be struggling NOT to think of things to say which would provoke even more ridiculous comments. I would be turning it all into an awful game. It just sounds so ridiculous! So! Ridiculous! It’s funny and sad and also just sort of…wow. You know?
But, you made it! Eat some brownies, woman, and put away the dishes, and enjoy your day. You made it and you’re my hero, and I’m sure we’re all applauding you for surviving so eloquently.
Freedom, Swistle!
You did it! I am giddy on your behalf!
Hello …. peace!
So glad it’s over.
HOORAY!! I easeciaaly liked “you fat troll!”
YAY! You made it. This calls for a spectacular baking of some kind… Scotchies? Brownies? Chocolate Chip Cookies? :o)
my jaw just got all tight and clenched while reading this..i have no idea how you may have survived
Goodbye and do let the door hit you on the ass on your way out!
After this week I now GET IT! NOW I know why you needed MIL dishes. Totally.
Also. Hamburg?
About damned time!! Are you throwing a party?
(My ex’s parents used to call hamburgers “hamburgs” and every time they did I wanted to reach across the table and smack them until they said it right.)
Ding dong, MIL is gone!
She actually sounds just sad. I’m guessing she’s not that much different around her friends/co-workers, so she must hear a lot of sighing and see a lot of eye-rolling wherever she goes.
Glad (for you) it’s over!
What a spectacular ending to this post. Congratulations… you made it! Do you feel closer with Paul after these visits? Like you’ve banded together against this evil invader?
Three cheers for you surving the visit.
Maria
I’m with black sheeped, I would have reached that same point by now. Example:
“Hamburg? Isn’t that in Germany?”
Goodbye, INDEED!
Goodbye goodbye goodbye! Good riddance!
Devan- For some reason, that’s what she calls ground meat. Not just hamburgers, but the ground meat itself. Instead of saying, “I’m buying a pound of ground beef,” she’d say, “I’m buying a pound of hamburg.” For some reason this makes me KER-RAZY.
Letitia- A batch of each, I’m thinking.
Jess Loolu- I used to sometimes like him less after spending time with his parents–like, I’d blame him for bringing them into my life, and for liking them at all. But now I feel like Paul and I are a team, linking arms to best absorb the impact of–as you correctly name it–“the invader,” and joining forces to make the visit bearable without allowing toxins to sink in. So now I love him more!
Goodbye Swistle’s Mother In Law.
HELLOOOO Swistle!
I love the Fat Troll comment, like you were finally having your say!
Doing the happy dance here for you!
Happy Day! Happy Day! “Ding dong the witch is gone…” I’m so glad you get to go back to being yourself!
I can’t even tell you how happy I am for you!
Seriously, you are a better woman than I.
Hasta la Vista Lucifer!
…and….HELLO victory brownies!
The purse on the lap thing just put me over the ege. I want to take that purse and throw it under the car wheels.
“you fat troll”- So funny!
I’m so glad she is gone!
Parting is such sweet… well, just sweet!
Don’t you wish that Lysol made something similar to a bug bomb? You could grab a laptop and head to Starbucks while the Lysol bomb disinfected every surface that she touched in your house. It would make the day after the MIL leaves even sweeter.
People who nickname things make me crazy, too! My in-laws refer to the tv show “King of the Hill” as “Propane Man” and everytime I hear that I want to scream. It has a perfectly good name already! Why in the world would you nickname a tv show?
Ding dong the wench is gone
which old wench
the wicked wench
Ding dong the wicked wench is GONE!!!!
Goodbye to the crazy old asshat Mother in Law.!!! Congrats on surviving!
I don’t even know her but I’m very happy for you that the biotch is…
G O N E !!