The crazy train is about to leave the station.

Yes my friends, the whining begins anew.  The SIL is set to arrive for a “flying visit” in less than eight hours.  I’m trying to contain my enthusiasm.

It’s not that I dislike my SIL.  She’s a nice enough woman and I enjoy spending time with her.  Sure there are things that drive me mental about her…she overuses the word “fabulous” and thinks she’s a fashionista but these are minor and I can generally ignore them during the time we spend together.  To be fair to her too, there are lots of awesome things about her, my favourite being the fact that she loves (and wears) anything I knit for her.  Besides, and I know you find it hard to believe, I’m sure I drive her mental too.

What really burns my ass is that we all have to gather for a command performance dinner tomorrow night.  It’s bad enough that I have to clear my night at the last minute (not that I had exciting plans but still)  but I will also have to eat the MIL’s vile and craptastic food to boot (and it will be twice in one week).   I wonder if she’ll actually have a real dessert or she’ll serve cantelopes (despite the fact that she knows I can’t stand them) or just toss a box of her barely-out-of-the-freezer cookies on the  table.  That’s a dental emergency waiting to happen!   Or perhaps some cake she made sometime in 2007 and is only now bringing out of cryogenic storage.  No, my guess is that she’ll have a cheesecake that will be covered in gelatin and canned fruit which will make me gag so I will scrape it off and get the stink eye from the MIL even though after all this time you’d think she’d clue in that I don’t like a) her cheescake and b) jelly-fruity weirdness on said cheesecake.  Cheesecake should be adulterated only with chocolate sauce, caramel or whip cream.  Preferably all three.  The MIL and I do not see eye to eye on cheesecake.

And I can’t wait to see what gems of wisdom the FIL will impart during dinner.  The last time we all met up he told DH (in front of everyone) that he made a mistake in marrying me and should have waited.  Perhaps he will once again tell his children they are not as smart as he is or try to engage us in a stupid discussion as to when is the best time for him to go on vacation.  Hint: immediately.  And make sure it’s very far away.  I’m sure you can feel the love I have for the man. 

And does anyone know why Greeks dilute their wine with ginger ale?  Even the good wine?  It’s weird.  I can understand trying to make the moonshine more paletable but the good stuff?  However, it’s not like we ever get the good stuff at the outlaws’ so it’s kind of a moot point I guess. 

Anyway.  As you can imagine, the feelings of dread have started.  In fact they started on Wednesday and are ramping up as I type.  I hate these last minute command performances.  They are rarely fun and this kind of stuff makes me resentful and cranky and not the kind of SIL I’d like to be.  Is it Sunday evening yet?  I have honestly never looked as forward to Monday as I do right now.

Have a good weekend kids.  Keep me in your thoughts and prayers and watch the headlines on Monday morning for a story about a crazed woman who stabbed a family member with a knitting needle repeatedly while babbling about overcooked chicken and gelatinous cheesecake.


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