I'll Be Late, I Have A Lawsuit

My in-laws are visiting us this weekend. That sentence makes me feel more adult than paying taxes and getting pap smears. They are staying at a hotel nearby because my MIL is allergic to cats and would slowly suffocate to death over the course of the weekend were she to sleep in our spare room, which, I may add, is perfectly comfortable and clean. In case anyone who gave birth to my husband was wondering.

Taking on a whole new group of people that can constantly remind you of what you're doing wrong is difficult, but I have it very very easy and not just because they live far away. I'm lucky in that my husband's parents are really nice to me, very generous and it's fairly easy to keep in touch between visits and I never have to guiltily pick up the phone, guzzle three shots of vodka, and dial their number. Like, I email them on purpose just to say hi sometimes.

There are a couple of barriers we have never really crossed, though. I've never cooked for them, or hosted on my own turf except for that one time a few years ago when they had to make rush travel plans for a holiday weekend because their son and I decided to get married. If only the Affordable Care Act had been in place in 2012, we might have been able to have a worry-free elopement in Bulgaria instead. . .

I'd better break out the fancy hotdogs this weekend.

In the beginning, I got really anxious any time we visited them or visited with them somewhere else (past tense, because clearly I don't anymore). For real, though, how bad could they be? They raised my favorite person and he's pretty ok and good at sports and Simpsons trivia. We used to always bring Truffles to their house with us when we visited, and she'd immediately take a crap on their floor or vomit on a rug somewhere. My husband's dad famously yelled "WHO DID THIS?" to a pile of feces once - like it was one of us or something. Truffles never really has accidents, and I bring her to people's houses all the time when I visit, but not to their house anymore. She just can't keep it together there.

She is going to daycare, not Grandma's

Not that they ever gave me any real signals, or maybe they are good at faking it and I'm not good at reading them - but I always worried they didn't like me. Realistically speaking, my husband could probably actually do a bit better. He has a fairly prestigious job, gets to meet interesting people who could some day get indicted in a juicy public scandal--and yet I still giggle if someone farts unexpectedly (especially if it's me).

So they will be here tomorrow and I'm cleaning and making some goodies while I try to squelch the fear that my goodies will give them diarrhea or e. coli.

One tough "elephant in the room" will be that I've gotten tangled up in my very first lawsuit, thus officially embracing my white trash heritage. I have so many relatives that think "I should sue" on a daily, if not hourly, basis and I'm finally one of them. I will be in court when they arrive to their nice hotel and settle in before coming to my house that I painstakingly (or my husband painstakingly) de-cat-haired and have a glass of peach sangria and eat dairy-free (Jews=lactose intolerant) strawberry chocolate creme pie that hopefully won't kill them or be full of animal dander. The cats like to play in the food processor. Something about the spinning. I should clean that out first. . .

Thanks for driving 14 hours, I'll be late, I have a lawsuit. . .

So yeah, I've got this lawsuit going and my husband's parents are coming and it's supposed to rain a lot, but they like me so it'll be fine that they're cooped up here in close quarters with me eating my cooking and not inhaling too deeply because I may have missed some tumbleweeds of animal hair. I'm not worried at all. They'd probably want to see that new Ted movie, right? I know one thing, this bitch better behave:

The Universe Gave Me A Hug

Before yesterday, I was coming off of a very tough week. I was leaving a class and stopped into a little jewelry store in my neighborhood. I'm not a jewelry fiend or anything, but my mother-in-law has a birthday coming up and she purchased a pair of earrings at this particular boutique and I know she likes their artisan hand-crafted style of goods. It's definitely a few steps up from some jamoke on the corner with a blanket displaying leather bracelets.

There was a young man in the store and the woman who runs it. We chatted a bit, I told them I was looking for something for my MIL and ultimately, I found a pair that caught my eye, but they were out of my price range at $225. I took a picture of them to see if my husband's sister would want to share the cost and was about to leave when the man I'd been chatting with said wait wait, which earrings? For your MIL? I'll buy them. The store is one-of-a-kind goods so I was immediately like "WHAT? You're stealing my earrings!" and he said no, I'm buying them and you're going to give them to your MIL. He went on to tell me that he had been so blessed in life, he loved looking for opportunities to do great things for people. I was so touched, I cried in the middle of the store. What a beautiful man! Also, umm, it's two blocks from my house and I live in what's known as the "gayborhood" and he fit in more than I did, if you know what I mean. I don't want to stick anybody out and say that's related - I only mention it because I happen to be an upstanding married lady who doesn't do or say anything unmarriedly. Plus, I'd hate for anyone to think this guy wasn't just amazing and not looking at my boobs or anything. He also shared with me a bracelet that he had been passing around to share positive energy. I'm the third person to wear it and it's my duty to pass it on, when it feels right, to someone with the right personality and the right need at that time, so that we'd all be connected. I've been wearing it for 24 hours and I look forward to being able to make someone's day with it in the near future.

I may have mentioned to the man and the woman running the shop that sometimes I feel like I'm still winning her over, that I wanted to get her something nice so she doesn't think we don't care, and buying her gifts is tough and stressful. My MIL is a woman who sends ME a designer purse for my birthday every year - when really, I should be given rubber bibs and jugs of wine with pictures of fake chateaus on them. High standards. I came home and immediately called my husband and told him the exciting news and how excited I was to tell her and he said "no no, don't tell her, because then she'll be like so what you're saying is you didn't buy me a present" and then I told the story to my sister-in-law and said it should be from all of us since it was a gift valued at much more than we would have spent and she and my husband were both like "no, she'd rather have two presents." So I couldn't help myself, I called her today and told her the story and her reaction? "Maybe they'll bring me good luck!" EXACTLY. I'm still excited to give them to her.

Side note: my husband was just going through our coupon stash on the fridge looking for the one I saved on his shampoo and he was reading aloud: heart burn, gas, pregnancy test, deodorant, rolaids, upset stomach. . . and it made me chuckle. It didn't need to be big like this, but I really really appreciate the positive affirmation thrown my way. See? I'm not always a downer.