MaxiMom's Third Timeout: The Grocery Store Meltdown
April 2017: I'm 9ish weeks into my pregnancy with DD2. MaxiMom knows I'm pregnant (we told her) and that I've been really sick this time around (we also told her). I look like an asshole in this story. I'll make my peace with that.
First comes Easter-- we invite MaxiMom up for brunch and to watch DD1, her only grandchild, hunt some eggs. She refuses. "I can't possibly do that," she says. "You know we always go to your grandmother's for Easter with the family." I do my best to make Easter fun for DD1. Later that night MaxiMom texts me. "I'm soooo missing pictures of my granddaughter!" I snarl and type out "Then you should have been here" but I don't send the text. I still regret not sending it.
24 hours later (Monday) I'm in urgent care at the hospital to get fluids and anti nausea meds and an official HG diagnosis. I'm exhausted because it's the middle of the night and I'm exhausted because I'm in my first trimester and I'm exhausted because I spend my days puking and chasing my toddler around and puking some more (there's no rallying...its just puke...lots and lots of puke). The next day I drop DH off at the airport for a 10 day business trip, and take DD1 to see MaxiMom at her work (she works 5 minutes from the airport). I express my concern about DH being gone for so long and how sick I've been. I try to explain to her what HG is. Maximom: "Well, you just need to pull yourself up by your bootstraps because things still need to get done."
DH's business trip is a shitshow. He flies to three cities and loses his debit card in one of them. His flights get cancelled, rescheduled, cancelled again. Meanwhile I'm at home trying to manage his crises and trying to keep myself and DD1 from going feral. For her part, DD1 has decided to stop sleeping through the night and just come in to mommy and daddy's room at ungodly hours to wake me up. I'm literally counting down the minutes until DH gets home because having a competent adult in the house sounds awesome. Also, he's promised me I can sleep, no interruptions, for as long as I need.
But then his flight home gets cancelled. And he can't get on another one until the next day.
I'm staring down an unanticipated day 11 of solo parenting and the loss of much needed sleep (I know, it's more of a 24 hour delay, but I really fucking needed it). I'm at the grocery store because all the food at our house made me want to puke so I want to try and find something appetizing, except everything at the store makes me want to puke too and nothing sounds good and DD1 refuses to tell me what she wants for dinner (other than a chocolate chip cookie).
She goes on and on, for about 15 minutes, about how she passed by a traffic stop on her way home and it freaked her out because there were two cop cars and not one and she thought she was going to get shot because she was sure it was an active police situation and blah blah blah blah. I'm doing my best to sound like I'm listening, but I must have missed an "mm hmm" because she finally says "Are you busy? What are you doing?" I explain, while trying desperately not to cry, that I'm at the store, I'm hungry and sick, my husband isn't coming home as expected, and the aisle is spinning around me and it really sucks.
"Oh honey," she says, in her very best martyr tone. "I just wish there was some way I could help you."
Record. Fucking. Scratch.
"Well," I said. "You could have been here."
MaxiMom, shocked: "You mean...like, you actually wanted me to come up and help you?"
Me: "It's a little late now but yeah, that would have been great a few days ago when I really needed the break."
MaxiMom, getting annoyed: "If you wanted help, why didn't you ask?"
Me: "You know I've been in the hospital and you know DH is gone and you know I've been struggling. Did I really have to ask?"
MaxiMom: "Well. How was I supposed to know you were going to be LIKE THIS when your husband was gone?"
I wish I could adequately describe the amount of contempt that was in her voice when she said "like this". Like I wasn't tough enough, or woman enough, or whatever. It's that tone, that one that they get that basically equates to "toughen up buttercup, I had it worse than you" and I just couldn't do it. It's bad enough that she was flabbergasted that I might need some help, but then she tried to make me feel inadequate without my husband around, like I need my man to take care of me, poor delicate flower that I am. There's a part of my vision that goes all tunnel-y. And red. And it's like all of the noise of the grocery store at 5:30pm on a weekday goes to static. And I think, very quietly, "Oh, fuck this." And I yell.
"Like this? Like THIS? I'M NOT SURE WHAT THE FUCK THAT'S SUPPOSED TO MEAN, BUT I CAN TELL YOU THAT I SURE AS SHIT NEEDED THE HELP AND I SURE AS SHIT SHOULDN'T HAVE TO ASK FOR IT, BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT'S BEEN--"
Maximom: "I offered to come up--"
Me: "DO NOT START THAT SHIT WITH ME, MAXIMOM, YOU HAVE NOT ONCE OFFERED TO COME UP AND HELP AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT NOW AFTER THE FACT. LOOK, I'M SORRY YOU GOT FUCKING SCARED BY A ROUTINE TRAFFIC STOP ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD BUT YOU NEED TO TALK TO A COUNSELOR ABOUT THAT. I'VE GOT REAL PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW. "
And then I hung up the phone. And realized, by the slightly appalled looks of the other people gawking at me, that I had been screaming at my mother over the phone while standing in the cheese aisle at the grocery store I frequent several times a week.
This might have been when I decided I needed the help of a therapist.
Twinkle knows we’re leaving and is going full goblin
Well DH is a damn fool. He woke up to TwinkleTwat the bridge goblin yelling at him. It was an ambush, honestly. DH didn’t listen to me when I told him to lay low until we had keys to the house, and now he’s gone and told Twinkle he is leaving next week.
This bitch had the nerve to wake up DH by yelling at him. She said “I’m sorry loving Aloe and loving us are mutually exclusive!” L m a o.....lady, you’re the one who drew that line in the sand. DH obviously loves her enough to do everything she asks. Like spending yesterday running errands for her while she was in the Er full of feces. But no, that’s not enough.
DH spent 5 hours of his day off yesterday driving BIL around because BIL doesn’t have a drivers license and “BIL didn’t get enough sleep last night to bike” and BIL refused to take an Uber (DH offered to pay) because he’s scared of being in a car with a stranger, and don’t even ask about the city bus. He’s 18 going on 19 years old. BIL has never ONCE thanked DH or I when we’ve driven him places, he acts like he’s entitled to a private chauffeur service. TwinkleTwat does his community college homework for him. BIL is a shitty person/puppet for TwinkleTwat and DH is starting to see it.
I digress: DH was pretty much verbally attacked awake, Twinkle is officially off the deep end again, and DH now has to put the emergency 24 hour escape plan into action. We prepared for this, and are thankful we didn’t have to do it earlier. He has a place to stay, his important papers, and the things he couldn’t afford to leave at TwinkleTwats. She doesn’t know where he’s going after work today. Tomorrow he’ll go back and see if she’s swept this under the rug yet. If she has, he’ll stay and keep the peace for another week. If not, he’ll grab his remaining stuff and crash with his friend until we get the keys to our place.
8 MORE DAYS.
Edit: she also gaslighted DH by saying “you didn’t ask how I was doing! You don’t care!” When he told his dad to keep him updated about her status. And also, SHE WAS CONSTIPATED. She wasn’t dying ffs lol
Edit 2: I will pass along flowers and a card that says “This poo shall pass” on the behalf of whoever wants to purchase the petty revenge
There Can Only Be One - Update!
It's been at least six months since my last post, I can't believe how fast it's all gone, and so much has happened! Warning: This will probably be a long post!
I hope Bitchbot will link the other posts, but just in case, this is the first one: https://www.reddit.com/sub/JUSTNOMIL/comments/6i55df/there_can_only_be_one/
Okay, first, the bubs are doing amazingly. They're getting so big, starting to walk and saying a few of words. So far we're managing pretty well with them and are absolutely so happy!
Second, after months of lawyers, courts and stress, we finally have a no contact order on MIL. She isn't allowed anywhere near us and isn't allowed to contact us, or have third parties contact us. This is a big win and was very hard fought. She pulled out every trick in the book to fight this!
I can't remember the exact dates of all this, so I apologise if it's all a bit vague. After she brought the priest to visit, that basically kicked everything off. We got CPS to conduct a visit and health check and they gave us the all clear. MIL then began reporting to them daily, if not multiple times a day, pretending to be neighbours and friends, complaining of hearing us screaming at the children, and the children being bruised and malnourished. More welfare checks, can't see anything wrong. She would call the police and say we left the babies alone outside/in the car, etc. The police ended up charging her with supplying false information.
She started sending FM to visit us, two of her sisters in particular. They would basically come over, coo over the babies and leave. At first we thought there was no harm in it, then CPS came again and said they'd complained that our house was filthy and the babies were being left in dirty nappies all day. Now, the house wasn't at its tidiest, I'll admit. I was a bit behind on the laundry and dishes, but it was definitely not as bad as they made it out to be. Next time they came over we told them we didn't want them visiting for a while. They called the police and the lady officer from my first or second post came over and basically told them to bugger off and leave us alone.
A few months after this all started we got approved for another house. Unfortunately, due to DH's work, leaving town isn't an option, but we didn't tell anyone our new address except for my parents, my best friend and DH's best friend. It was so peaceful and calm for a while, that I was beginning to relax and let my guard down. One day DH and his friend had gone out and my best friend and I were at home, chatting and doing some sewing together. The doorbell rung and as I had a mouthful of pins and my hands full of fabric, my best friend went to get it. I hear her open it and then a loud "What the FUCK?"
Guess who? Right, MIL. She was there with an armful of presents for the babies, and a big grin on her face. I came over to the door and told her to leave. She was pouting and asking if I hadn't put "all that" behind me yet. She pointed out that it wasn't very Christian of me not to forgive, to which my friend responded that it wasn't very Christian of her to be a raging bitch (MIL obviously did not like that). I again told her to leave and said I would call the police. Best friend said "On it" and dialled the cops. MIL then burst into fake tears and started begging for forgiveness, saying it was cruel to keep the little angels from her. I swear you could hear the eye rolling from myself and best friend. Cops arrived and listened to both sides of the story, and told her to move along. One of the cops told me I should be kinder to her, which made me pretty mad, but I just brushed it off.
When DH got home I told him and he called our lawyer and basically told him that we don't want her anywhere near us. That set everything into motion and the court dates started. We basically had to prove that she was an actual danger to our children, but she played the concerned grandparent and turned on the crocodile tears spectacularly. As we didn't have sufficient evidence to keep her away from us, the Judge basically turned the case out (our lawyer thinks that the judge may have been biased, but we couldn't do anything else other than try to gather more evidence and appeal) (sorry if I'm being super vague, the details are exhausting and would take months to write out).
We talked about moving again, but really didn't have the money to do it, so best friend told us to stay at her place and she'd stay at ours, at least for a little while, so we'd feel safe and comfortable (have I said how great she is? 'Cause she's great). So, we did a house swap and a few days later she sends me a video of her opening the door and MIL there. MIL openly recoiled and starts shouting things like "GOOD LORD!" "MY HEART!" and runs off. Best friend answered the door stark naked. MIL didn't return for about a week and a half after that. When she did she demanded to know where we were and best friend pretended she didn't know who MIL was talking about. MIL started staking out the house, but after a few days must have realised we wouldn't be around and stopped. We reported each instance to the police, adding to our file.
A few weeks after this DH had a work dinner where he was getting an award, a pretty big deal, so his best friend and mine volunteered to watch the Three Musketeers. We let them stay at our house (where best friend was staying) as MIL hadn't been around, and we thought it would be fine.
It would have been around 9:30, the kiddos were asleep and our two friends were watching a movie together when they heard something weird in the back room. They went to investigate and found one of the windows open. This was mid-late winter, so it had definitely been closed. They immediately went to the baby's room, which was actually the spare room, then my friend stayed there while DH's friend went to search the house. Friend called the cops while he went searching. About five minutes later she heard a "WHOLE FUCK" from upstairs and ran up to see what was happening.
I'm shaking as I type this, I still can't believe it.
MIL was in the old nursery upstairs. She had two baby carriers with her. The two BF's kept her in the room until the police came and she was arrested. We got home shortly after and I was in near hysterics after finding out what happened. MIL was charged with breaking and entering and attempted kidnapping. She'll probably do jail time, but unfortunately the courts here move really slowly, so she hasn't been sentenced yet. Her court date is coming up soon.
After this we obviously took the case back to court and this time the judge could hardly deny that she was a danger to the children, so our request was granted. She was released on bail, but under strict instructions to go nowhere near us, and not to contact any third parties about us. Apparently she thought she had a loop hole, and she sent FIL around, this would have been around Christmas time. He basically tried to guilt DH into letting him into the house, pulling the whole 'it's Christmas', 'Can't you forgive your old man?' shit. DH told him to bugger off and leave us alone. We switched houses back, and things have actually started to settle down again. Our two best friends are now very good friends (we're thinking maybe more...) and have been absolutely amazing. We had them both over for dinner to say thank you and they were definitely vibing.
I'm sorry again if this is incoherent, everything seems like a blur now. Sometimes I wonder if maybe it wasn't all some kind of weird dream. Anyway, that's where we're at at the moment. I'm hoping MIL's trial will get bumped up and that she won't be able to get out of doing time (our court here is more than a little biased, unfortunately, but we'll see). Meanwhile I'm going to try to relax and enjoy the time while the little ones are little. They seem to grow every day and are so precious, I can't believe how lucky I am to have them.
Giada and body shaming
I am miserable in bed with the flu, so I am lurking on reddit and decided to share a llama snack.
When I first met Giada, I was a teenager. She was quite beautiful and I was totally intimidated by her. (It might also have something to do with her being dressed to kill and taking me in my work uniform to a fancy restaurant, grilling me, and telling me her expectations of me as her son's girlfriend. Anyway.) Giada is around 5'6 and rail thin. She has small breasts, slim hips, and a small frame. She goes on extreme diets regularly and abuses the hell out of diet pills a couple of times a year. Her hair has been thinning for years due to poor diet habits.
ExFSIL2 is similar in body type and height to her mother. She's naturally slender.
ExFFIL is around 6'0 and barrel chested. He's a broad dude - less so as he ages - and is very solidly built. He isn't fat, but he isn't toned. He's just sturdy. My ex takes after him, but is several inches taller and more muscular. ExFSIL1 also takes after her father. She's tall for a woman and is also solidly built. Not fat. Not thin. Just healthy.
I am the opposite of Giada. I am short, overweight, and have way too much hair and cleavage. (My SO once joked that I was 40% boob, 40% hair, 20% everything else.) I had - still have - a lot of insecurities about my body and used to dress in baggy clothes to hide it. I have written about Giada's reaction to seeing my breasts without a hoodie covering them. Basically, she honka-honkad them, tried to shame me for having them, and has a tantrum when I told her that my ex liked them just fine.
Giada always has a comment about people's bodies. She's pinched fat rolls on strangers, referenced my child bearing hips, made comments on how I can't wear bikinis, poked an infants little chubby rolls and called him a porker, etc. But no one had it worse than exFSIL1.
Giada almost seemed to take offense to the fact that exFSIL1 wasn't a "skinny girl." I remember being at a barbecue and Giada brought her daughters each a plate of food. She gave exFSIL2 a full plate, loaded with a burger, corn on the cob, and some type of pasta. ExFSIL1 was given a plate with one burger patty and a dollop of mustard. She said she was lucky she was even getting that much. Giada would also push her to work out until she fainted or threw up. ExFSIL1 was forced to work out before and after school and Giada would make her sit in their poolhouse steam room until she was crying.
But Giada would sabotage exFSIL1 too. She would offer her cake and cry about how hard she worked on it and how her feelings were hurt if exFSIL1 refused it. But if she ate the cake, Giada would yell at her for being a "pig" and say she would never get a man if she kept being so undisciplined. (She continued saying this even after exFSIL1 came out as a lesbian.) ExFSIL1 couldn't win.
ExFSIL1 developed an eating disorder in high school, no doubt in part because of this. Her hair started falling out, her skin looked horrible, and kids started to bully her. It got so bad that exFFIL sent her for inpatient treatment. Giada was fine with her daughter having an eating disorder but was frantic about her being sent away. She was afraid of what her church friends would say.
Ivana Couch grovels.
I guess she figured out she's been cut off from 2/3 kids, and that 3/3 has kids all old enough to not visit. Enter extinction burst.
First, it was the calls. Voicemails. Full blown, melt down begging for forgiveness for "whatever it is i have done wrong." "I cant fix it if i don't know what i did!"
Then, the texts. Walls of texts starting with sad-emojis and lots of hearts before dissolving to "the women my sons married RUINED THEM. I should have never let any of them leave meeee!"
Then, the business email.
"I hope in all sincerity this letter finds you well. I am utterly heartbroken that you and (SIL) have turned not only my grandchildren, but my own sons against me. We wil never move further in our relationship with one another unless you learn to be christian women and practice forgiveness. This hurts me, as you are both my daughters (in jesus). If you ever find it in your heart to move on from the darkness clouding your mind and spirit, i will be here. I'll pray for you.
Uh...okay. YOU are the darkness and i have been trying for 12 years to get away, but uh...thanks?
In any case, her self-imposed grounding could not have come at a better time! We're pregnant! This little one will see less than his/her big brother had to, and for that im grateful!
We go to lunch, and I decide to speak Yzma's language. BEFF (Bitch eating French Fries)
I will start by saying, I am really particular about my food. Don't touch it, don't assume you can take something off my plate, and don't even attempt to take my best bite. If you ask, I will gladly give over, but don't just assume. My mother used to just snag bites off my plate and it drove me crazy. (eh, Bubba?)
So, yesterday, Kronk Jr. is in town, so Yzma and Kronk want to go to lunch. I figure I can make myself busy with children and Kronk Jr. is a lovable dork who we don't get to see often. Given that, I agree.
Me, Pacha, OS, YS, KJr., K, and Yzma are all at lunch. Yzma orders a salad, because, in mixed company, women are supposed to have salads. OS wants a cheeseburger with fries. Dude is skinny as a rail, super tall and lanky, but puts away some food. He also has Asperger's and is just super sweet.
So we are eating, I'm talking to Kronk Jr. about the muscadine wine he made, and I see, out of the corner of my eye, Yzma snatching french fries off my son's plate. I wait for my moment, because I know Pacha, and Pacha loves french fries, so I know he's going to snatch one too. True to form, Pacha snatches a french fry. I turn, and conversation is follows.
Me: You know, you could ask if you can have one of his french fries.
Pacha: But, it's just french fries.
Me: Yes, but they are HIS french fries. It's really rude (staring at Yzma at this point) to take food off of someone else's plate. (Yzma sheepishly looks away.
Pacha then asks OS if he can have some french fries and the lesson is learned on both Pacha and Yzma's part. See, Yzma thought no one noticed. Play Passive Aggressive games, win passive aggressive prizes.
Story about 2 of my 3 MIL snooping through my computer.
To answer questions about the title; my wife's mother is a lesbian who remarried. Her father remarried as well, and I have 3 mothers in law. This is about the same sex couple.
My relationship with my wife came on fast because we had been friends for years and her mom was always suspicious about how quickly we fell for each other, and her mom was too. In their defense they both work in fields that have trained them to be investigative in nature (independent investigation and government).
The first time they visited and I had my laptop out, one of them said they needed to use it to check their email even though she had a tablet with her and they both have smartphones. But, without question, I let her use it because I had no reason to suspect foul play. I was also well aware that of the three browsers, I used Firefox specifically for frisky time, had it set not to save history. But usually had a small collection of bookmarks (I know ways to avoid leaving the bookmarks within the browser, but it had never been an issue prior to this)
When she gave the laptop back to me Firefox, of all browsers, is open... But only to the home page. This strikes me as odd so I deleted my bookmarks... After exporting them and emailing them to myself.
Fast forward a few months and they visit again. Momma uno says she needs my computer, momma dos says something along the lines of "you have your laptop with you!"... After they had a silent but awkward staring contest I decided to get my laptop. This time it was returned with Firefox AND the empty bookmarks folder open.
Fuckery was definitely afoot.
Months later and they visit again and this time, convinced by Madre one, Madre 2 asks for a go on the laptop. I know for a fact that it is good to go and give it up willingly. A while later I walk by the room and can clearly see she is going through my folders, specifically the photo and video backups from our older phones. At this point she has most likely seen more of her daughter than she bargained for, and way more of me and my mediocre Irish peen.
But that wasn't the worst part... The worst part was the fact that when I caught her; when I asked aloud "whatcha doin' there?"... She simply replied "being a nosy bitch", slammed the laptop shut, and handed it to me. When she handed it over she added "I'm done now".
Ok... Enough of this exploratory bullshit.
So a plan was devised. And it goes as follows: 1. Bookmark yucky things. 2. Name them sexy-ish names. 3. Wait on the dynamic duo.
So I bookmarked a bunch of fucked up stuff. Mr. Hands, tub girl, goatse, lemon party, bme pain Olympics, blue waffle, two girls one cup, one guy one cup, and kids in the sandbox. Oh yeah, and the great American challenge.
I then named them ridiculous porn names like... "College girl will do anything for a ride home in my 1998 Corolla" "Thor's meat hammer vs. The southern brown eye" "college girls go wild on each other's Labia majoras"
Then the waiting game...
During the next visit neither of them needed my laptop and I was afraid that they were no longer gathering intel. But the following visit was much more successful. Primary mother needed the laptop and I made myself scarce by running to get groceries. The laptop was closed when it was returned. No windows open, no bookmark folders... Nothing.
This is now year 4 of my laptop no longer being needed by either one of them.
Tl;Dr (in Limerick form) The mothers in law chose to snoop. So I thought they deserved to be duped. I made bookmarks so vile. And renamed the files Some of them even had poop.
Olena doesn't like what we named the child we haven't even started trying to conceive.
I suppose SIL is partly to blame, seeing as how she is the one that told Olena that we had "decided on a name"... SIL and BIL, who live with Olena, have been having issues, which Olena is at her wits end over, so I guess SIL wants to shit stir to get Olena on her side???
Anyway, SIL's son is expecting baby number 2 with his wife. I don't know any of her family, so I sent a generic "congrats on the baby" to her on Facebook. She messaged back and we ended up discussing what her son and DIL are thinking as far as names.
Here's where I should note that Olena's real name is the same first name of her mother and her mother's mother. For example, let's say the name is Elizabeth. So the names (ggmil, gmil, mil) are Elizabeth Gale, Elizabeth Ann, and Elizabeth Mae.
Now Olena has made it clear that IF she'd had a daughter, Olena would have named her Elizabeth something to carry on the tradition.
Now, my family also has this tradition, but instead of direct line (mother to daughter, to her daughter, to her daughter...), my family uses the name on one female child per generation. None of my cousins have used the name on their daughters because I made it very clear 20 years ago that I plan on using the name. No matter what, if I have a daughter, her name will be my family's traditional name. It was also my grandmother's name.
So SIL and I were discussing baby names and she mentioned my family name. I told her that's the name DH and I would use of we ever had a daughter. She asked what we would put with it and I told her DH and I had decided to use his paternal grandmother's name.
SIL and I exchanged a few more messages and that was that. Until Olena called DH a few days later and told him her feelings were hurt that we weren't naming THE baby after her. Of course DH is like, "What baby???"
I don't really care if she doesn't like fictional girl baby's name. DH and I already discussed that fictional boy baby's name is going to be named after her and my mother (maiden names). Plus, her tradition is mother to daughter. She doesn't have any daughters, so it's not my fault that the tradition wasn't carried on.
At least I know that DH is a ok with cutting her out if she ever becomes a true problem.
Haole Hattie Is a Tattletale (a wedding story)
DH and I went out tonight without the little siren child and while enjoying a few cocktails, he reminded me of this story and encouraged (or commanded) me to tell it to your lovey llamas.
Haole Hattie let all her stupid hang out at our wedding. The only saving grace we had were the awesome people that surrounded us (FIL, BIL, my MOH, my parents, etc). If they hadn’t been there, HH would’ve surely ruined everything.
My parents made our wedding a four day affair. I mentioned before that Mom did not get her dream wedding, so this was far more important to her than it was me. Because she’s amazing and I knew she’d throw the party of a lifetime, I let her do this. Of course, she ran everything by me and hired a coordinator to do the work for us.
Another thing I should mention is that DH and I went to school and were married in a southern state on the mainland. We had our wedding in a historical city in that state before moving back to Hawaii (my home state). For context, this is important.
The first round of wedding festivities was the bachelor/bachelorette parties, which would eventually combine with the families for a haunted historical tour of the city that night. I took my girls to a fancy wine bar for dinner, where we proceeded to get totally smashed on good wine. One of my bridesmaids (my dearest cousin) was 16 at the time, and being the rebellious big cousin I am I would order two drinks at a time and give one to her. She was amongst the roaring drunkards giggling in the corner of the bar. But, since I’m sure it will be brought up in comments, I am also the protective big cousin and if anyone so much as looked at cousin wrong I would plot their demise so swiftly that some would think I have the makings of a serial killer. Nothing happens to cousin on my watch, so she was totally safe with me and my five other bridesmaids.
No one wanted my aunt to know my cousin was drunk. My aunt is a strict woman and the jury is still out on how she feels about me. We made sure that aunt would not be on the upcoming tour (thanks, dad) and ended up having a great night heckling our tour guide as we drunkenly wandered the streets of the city. DH ended up in a fountain, which has no bearing on the story, but is the highlight of the evening.
Here’s where HH comes in.
She approached me during the tour and asked if I was drunk (“What clued you into that one, HH?”) and if cousin had also been drinking (“lol nope” lie). Of course, the word slurring and the insistence that there were snacks somewhere on this tour answered these questions for her. She started in on me about underage drinking, which I didn’t want to hear because I was having a grand time learning about ghosties. I told her it wasn’t her family so it wasn’t her fucking business and went on my merry way.
I should’ve seen the retaliation coming. I blame whatever glass of wine made me lose count of how much wine I’d had.
The next morning, as cousin and I (she’d slept over with the rest of the bridesmaids in my suite) were going down to breakfast before the rehearsal, I see HH talking to aunt. Aunt looks furious.
HH had sought aunt out that morning to tell on us for getting her daughter trashed the night before. We got a verbal ass beating by aunt, which was not fun because the woman screams at a decibel just below the one that only dogs can hear. I took the blame for all of it, but came within a spider’s ass hair of aunt not letting cousin be in the wedding party. To this day aunt does not trust me with cousin even though cousin is about to graduate college.
HH was so proud of herself for about two hours, before she pulled more shit but got called on it at the rehearsal. A story for another time, though.
JNMIL and I Changed My Mind!; aka How Living With "Cry-Me-A-River" for 4 Days Made Him Want To Stay Married