Saturday, 28 March 2009

Day Three

Amelia is here until "at least" Friday. Friday. That's a whole week. Or it was yesterday. A whole seven days of hell on earth. I've taken on board all of the suggestions I've received, War Command has been set up on my half of the bedroom. Picture this, if you will:

A notebook is constantly at my elbow, not only to record the cutting comments aimed in my direction but also my thoughts. Token Gay Friend Andy suggested this as did Potty Mummy (apologies, but I've embellished your suggestion PM!). I'm currently sifting through the notebook, composing a post (it helps to share and vent) but all I'm doing is succeeding in getting myself into such a rage that I'm in danger of overdoing the

Alcohol: copious amounts of vodka (which set her off on a rant about my being an alcoholic) cunningly hidden in cranberry juice and coke but she knows it's in there. This was a suggestion from my darling sister and also Married With Four. I needed a double when I heard her say to Mac "I don't know what's wrong with your mother!"

An aura of serenity: sort of suggested by Nappy Valley Girl and Charlie who has herself, today, been on the receiving end of Amelia's cutting wit. "Have you still not got a man?" said my mother in law. Charlie inhaled sharply (her love life is something of a sore point) and rammed an entire Ayres hot cross bun (unbuttered) into her mouth.

Thinking happy thoughts. This from my beloved husband who is wearing a weary expression and keeps apologising for unleashing her on the household. I feel so sorry for him, I really do. I can't quite work out how somebody as lovely, generous and warm came out of that woman.

Eating: I've done nothing but eat Quality Street today. Of course, it's given her more ammunition ("Should you be eating that much chocolate? Those jeans are awfully tight already") but at least this way I get something good out of it. Or, as Janey pointed out, "you may just well put on half a stone and that's a great way to piss her off, turning yourself into a lard bucket". She means well.

Denial. This isn't happening. It's a bad dream, I'll wake up in a minute

5 comments:

Crystal Jigsaw said...

Are you awake yet? It's when I read posts like this one that I realise how lucky I am not to have any in-laws at all!!

CJ xx

rosiescribble said...

Sedatives in her coffee, perhaps?

rosiero said...

Or laxatives in her coffee. That'll keep her busy!

"Moaning Mum" said...

HOW TO SOLVE THE IN-LAW PROBLEM:

1. spike her morning tea with vodka
2. turn hot water off when she attempts to have shower/bath
3. have a breakfast conversation centering around whether anyone else has seen the rat in the kitchen recently..
4. allow your mother-in-hell to accidentally overhead an imaginary conversation you're having a friend about your husbands recent cross-dressing in the bedroom

any or all of these methods are guaranteed to clear your home of any (un)welcome in-laws. honestly :)

The Dotterel said...

Did you know A.E.Housman used to keep a notebook, which he used to write down insults he invented when the insultee was nowhere to be seen - just so he didn't forget them. Sounds like you don't have that problem...

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I'm a mum of one, wife of one and owner to several dogs, a variety of breeds and sizes. I live in the up and coming area (or so they say) of Nunhead and have mad neighbours, strange friends and certifiable relatives. I shop locally, although I do defect to Sainsburys once a week - shoot me now local shopkeepers.