So the outlaws came by. With the electrician and his wife (who are friends of the outlaws). And the SIL. Although the SIL stayed upstairs on the computer…working/hiding…whatever. I wished I could have joined her.
Anyway, they arrived about two hours earlier than anticipated. I was lucky I was dressed. Or maybe they were lucky, it’s hard to say. DH made the coffee, thankfully we had Baba-baked cookies on hand and a rum cake from the recent Caribbean vacation.
Now maybe it’s just me, but I thought that in my own house that I pay the bills for/in/on I would at least be offered the hostess role. Ummm no. MIL opened the door, MIL spoke in a language other than English (co-incidentally it’s not a language I speak) and MIL decided when the coffee, cake and cookies would be served. She also cut a very small piece for me despite the fact that I bought the f’ing cake and I could have eaten the whole damn thing if I pleased. The she sees the friends off while I clear the table and act out the role of scullery maid/general house slave.
It’s a good thing I’m drugged up on codeine today or someone would have gotten stabbed with a DPN. But maybe it’s for the best. Last night’s dinner wasn’t as craptastic as I envisioned it to be and I was lulled into a false sense of calm and rationality. Today, acting as though it was her due, the MIL took over my house and my role as hostess and so all is right in the world. I’m back to resenting her and the coming appocalypse has been put on hold. It’s ok everyone, the world is not ending. Not this week anyway.
PS while the end of the world is NOT nigh at hand our search for an electrician continues. This reno will be the death of me yet.