MommaKin said:
umm....hasn't this board been bad enough lately and now you threaten of talk about in-laws?
Ok...go for it
Just remember you asked for it.
Background
The Cast
Me
My Wife
My Twin 7 month old son and daughter
My Father In law
My Mother In law
Two Police Officers
Three EMT Techs.
(THE SETUP)
The in-laws showed up Saturday night.......then everything was going well.....
Monday was about as perfect a day as I've had in a long time. I had a good nights sleep Sunday, the kids slept all night and I felt good and everything worked well here and I hit the gym and had plenty of time for a great workout. Even the 18-mile drive home through horse-cow-Amish country was uneventful which is unusual. The weather was wonderful the sun was shining. I should have known things were too good!
THE FORBOODING.....
I walk into the kitchen through the back door and I smell and see a smoky haze.
However the kids are smiling and happy and everything looks under control.
“Grams and Gramps” are arguing over how much longer to cook the huge ass 20-pound turkey they brought with them.
My wife is smiling so I think everything is okay.
STRIKE ONE!
My pharmacy drug addict mother in law is slurring her speech and looking woozy. She attempts to stand up and falls backwards and sideways against the wall and into the Brass Urn of Change I have in the Kitchen.
We get the queen of Munchhousen’s Syndrome up on her feet and she seems no real worse for wear but this gives her an excuse to pop some more DEMEROL and MORPHINE TABS and unbeknownst to the rest of us OXYCOTN! Well she then starts bugging out like any drug addict will because she has only like 4 50 mg tabs of Demerol left and that wont get her through till 1:00 Wednesday for her Dr.’s Appt to restock her supply.
We told her to lay down and take a nap and that she had enough shit with her to dose out a third world country into tellietubby land until next Christmas. (She carries around a small SUITCASE of medications)
STRIKE TWO!
The Phone Rings.
6:00 PM.
She is gets up and damn near bolts for the phone, given the fact that she is 58 going on 80 and has had major oral surgery in the past month and busted up four ribs does not deter her from trying to beat everyone to the phone. We’re in the kitchen; “Gramps” is on his 2000th trip to the store to buy some bullshit that she swears we need for this “Thanksgiving Dinner”.
We here a crash and a “OH SHIT!” She has somehow fallen DIRECTLY onto the kneecap of her right leg and it is starting swell like a balloon being filled with water. I go into our joint-office and she is next to my side of our partners’ desk on the floor writhing in pain as usual. (I think she invented the writhe actually) This is both sad and pathetic.
I get her back to the guest bedroom and do some basic flex test on her knee and she has full range of motion and no pain spikes. This is key because if someone has serious damage they will stop you from moving the joint with a pain spike.
In between the all this my wife and I manage to get two warm-milk-formulae bottles into our kids who upon seeing the trauma induced tension that everyone is now under proceed to pass out. Thank God for that small respite.
Upon my father in law’s return from shopping the 2000th time today he is not really surprised by this and goes into the bedroom to talk to MILFH (Mother in law from hell) about her recent adventures on the floor. We here a lot of the sounds of two people talking and bitching but cannot make out any details since were in the kitchen tending to the nightmare meal that is has been cooking all afternoon.
7:00 PM.
MILFH decides that she wants to have dinner before she goes to the hospital because they came up to share Thanksgiving with use early since they were going to her other daughters house on Thursday. (MSFIL) My saintly father in law SETS THE TABLE and I carry her from the bedroom to the kitchen and put her on the kitchen couch (big kitchen) and dinner commences with me holding my now awake daughter who is staring at grandma with a look of WTF is her problem? I look at my daughter and can only think that we share the same thoughts on the matter.
Not 20 minutes into the dinner she decides that I cannot pick her up and cart her out to the car so that MSFIL can take MILFH to the local hospital that she NEEDS and ambulance. So MSIL goes to the phone and calls 911. Within minutes we have two of Mayberrys’ finest in our kitchen and they are surveying the situation, pretty nice guys actually, my daughter was even flirting with one of them. They talk to MILFH and say the ambulance is on the way, etc.
The Ambulance arrives, my daughter gets giddy, she thinks it is a party or something since this many people usually aren’t in a room for no good reason. They pack her up and take her away which for me is a good thing. MSFIL and my wife follow along in due stead to the hospital. I’m watching the kids.
I get my daughter to sleep around 8:30. My son has been asleep since around 6:15 or so. (See where this headed don’t ya?)
STRIKE THREE!
THEY GET BACK from the hospital around 11:30, and I have already sent out my obligatory 300 emails explaining a “family emergency” and the need to take Tuesday off. I then set up and listen to her numerous complaints about the Dr. not wanting to “OPERATE” on her and only giving her a two shots of Morphine. And also that the Dr. thinks she is using the medications to get high rather than to stop the pain and that he was entering this into her medical history. I being an honest person tell people what I think when they ask me questions.
She ask me is a very slurred angry drunken voice.
“Doj U tink I am drwunkin in my behavooooir”
I say “Yeah you’re an addict, but for some reason no one at home wants to tell you this. Plus you’re an angry drunk basically who gets all pissed off and starts bitching and moaning like now. You would rather wallow in pain than try and do thinks that have been prescribed for you but you don’t do because then you would have to be responsible for yourself.”
I then went to bed thinking I would get some sleep and make it to work before 5:00, after all I’ve operated on 3 hours before.
I have a baby monitor in my bedroom and the kitchen is next to the babies room. (Note to self, move this room).
She kept getting snider and louder and I could hear all this bitching and moaning which I was not going to respond to in any way. I only prayed that the kids would stay asleep. I fall asleep around 2:00.
My wife then has to deal with my son who wakes up around 2:30 and stays up till 4:00.
This is not good. I get up around 6:00 AM and I am greeted by a Kitchen that it a total wreck. It takes me AN HOUR to clean this mess up after I give my daughter a bottle and set her in a bouncy chair. I THEN get to make her breakfast and my son is up and I get them both fed and happy. This pretty much goes on all day with me taking care of them and the occasional request from TMILFH for something to eat, drink or a helping hand to the bathroom. She soon discovers that I don’t respond on command and starts complaining.
The MILFH nagging begins after my wife and MSFIL go out to run a few errands to finalize the deal on her new car. I tell her she has crutches to use them, and don’t bother me when I am dealing with the kids. She knows I’m about to snap her over my legs like a twig based on the look I give her. So to keep her from falling again I start getting her stuff only after she starts to get up, which takes her like 20 minutes. She starts to stand I bring her what she wanted. She gets more pissed, I get almost giddy with this game of torture the MILFH.
After all this they leave to return home around 8:00 last night because she has to make a 1:00 Dr.’s Appt or she will not get a renewal on her DEMORAL script.
I just can’t wait for Christmas…oh and no I didn’t get to eat!
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