Ok, this weekend I bent and promised my wife we'd go to her sister's house in Menasha, WI to see our new baby niece. The 'problem' with this was it involved spending a night and the whole weekend with my Mother-In-Law (MIL). For those of you that know, we just get along GREAT. The first thing she said to me on Saturday morning was a sign of the shit storm I was going to endure the entire weekend.

We decided to meet the MIL in Wausau, hop in her car and take the 1.5 hour trek to the sister-in-law's. I backed our car into a parking spot at the Fazoli's, and the first thing the MIL asks me: "How did you back in there?!" In a tone like a moron would ask a kindergartner on how they tied their shoes, with the same enthusiasm. It was like she wanted a demonstration.

I said, "Oh, I just put it in reverse." But it sounded more like, 'Well, Linda, I pulled in the parking spot like you would, got out of the car, pick the fucker up, spun it 180 degrees and put it down. How the fuck do you think I backed it in there?'

Now, you have to understand what I deal with. There IS no conversation with this woman. It's just her asking retarded questions like the one above or repeating questions that she knows the answers to. Oh, and asking about 13 times if we are 'sure' on our decision.. Whatever it may be.

Fast forward almost a full 24 hour period of me dealing with this.. my nerves are starting to wear thin.. So, we didn't get to sleep until late. Planned on sleeping in a bit and having breakfast with my wife's cousin who also happens to be in town from Oklahoma City. 8am, the MIL is pounding on the bedroom window, asking to be let in the house.. Because the absent minded silly locked herself out. Then repeatedly interrupted sleep asking us if we wanted to join her in church.. and double checking, and triple checking, ad nauseam. I heard her walking toward the bedroom door, and looked at my beautiful wife and told her, "You better take care of your mother before I throw the fucking bed at her" She laughed and cut off the MIL before furniture went airborne.

Then I proceeded to watch the Bears and Pukers lose with my wife's cousin (who's a Pack fan), and then watched my Vikes beat, once again, the Cowgirls. Those 3 games ALMOST made up for the Hell the MIL put me through.

The sad thing about my MIL stories is that I forget more of what happens with her than I ever care to experience with her. I really should write this stuff down as it happens, I think I could get in the same business as MontanaBob and write books on this.

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Poor Formo. I guess I'm blessed. My MIL is a drug addict, was homeless last time we saw her, and hopefully she's dead by now. We cut her off years ago and the absolute last thing we want her to know is our address as she'll appear one day with suitcases.

So I don't envy you one bit. I think our situation is better.

Now, if only there was a big IGNORE button you could put on your MIL. Would make your life so much better.

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Life can sure be fun, hey???

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Poor bastard, Formo. Maybe if you were nicer to me, God wouldn't punish you so much.

I don't care for my MIL very much either. But underneath her stupidity, lies a kind heart with our best interest at heart. Sometimes she makes it difficult for me to keep that in mind. She is an intrusive women, and I overlook a lot because I love my wife.

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