Pukey In Pink

In less than a week, my precious daughter turns 2. I can't even believe it. I'm up to my eyeballs with birthday party crap from recipes to decorations and everything in between, of course. In the midst of all this, when I came home the other day, MIL tells Jeremy and me how the pants I dressed Raelynn in that morning don't fit anymore. She said they were too small. For the record, they were older but they still fit just fine. In any event, I told her we had plenty of stuff for her and she did not need to buy Raelynn anything.

In fact, I actually begged her to please not buy Raelynn any clothes. We have seen what kind of shit MIL buys (check out exhibits A and B for example). She overpays for things so she can brag about how much she spent and hey, look what a good person she is spending her squirreled-away money on the ugliest fucking clothes you've ever seen. Ugh. Aside from totally hating her style (or complete lack of it), we have plenty of things that fit her now. New things too. Why, then, would I put her in a pair of older pants that MIL would accuse of being too small? Quite simply, I don't want to come home to find a shirt I've only dressed Raelynn in once that should fit her for a whole year is now stained with soy sauce and greasy grossness because the senile old cow forgot to put a bib on her before giving her lunch.

But MIL took this as yet another opportunity to shit all over my wishes and disregard showing any respect toward me, which is exactly why I cannot stand her. If she'd only shut her fat, broken-toothed yak-faced mouth and not make everything about her for a change, perhaps she could listen and actually hear what I'm saying to her. And yes, I had asked her nicely in Chinese, in case you were wondering. Dumb ears strike again because when I came home, this is what I found, wet and "hanging" to dry on top of my computer chair. Because...because she's too stupid to hang it on the clothing rack? I don't know. I haven't figured that out yet. Maybe I never will. But in any event, take a look at the vomitous pink atrocity she brought us today:

This picture is of the front of the pants. Now, I love pink. I really do. The smiley faces just fuck up what would have been a simple pair of pink pants. Why do they fucking do this here?!? GOD! And they actually do sell plenty of plain pants in all kinds of colors. You just have to know where to shop. And MIL, as we all know, has no idea where to shop.  Durrrr! Anyway, on to the back...

 Help me. Please, just...somebody, help me. I can't. What the fuck is this idiotic shit on here? I hate it. Also, being a stickler for proper English language usage and an English teacher, this lack of anything resembling coherent English is really just crushing my soul. Take a closer look:

All caps. All crap. "Super Fashion" my ass. It's horrible. MIL can't read English of course so you know her dumbass thought it probably said something cool. How I wish it said: "I did not pick out this fugly garment. Please don't judge my daughter or me at the next play group when her yodel-brained grandmother takes her while I am stuck at work."

I told my husband that if he loves me, he will never allow his mother to take Raelynn to her Wednesday morning play group dressed in these. Judging from the look on his face, I don't think I have a problem.