Friday, November 14, 2014

Eggstra! Eggstra! MIL Still Sucks!

Some things never change. Ever. Of course she still sucks. It's like MIL looks for new ways to make me despise her. Maybe in her pea-brain, she's thinking, "Let's see if my daughter-in-law will really lunge at me with the butcher knife if I do this..." You have no idea how hard it is to restrain myself. No, I'd never stab her or even kill her. But I seriously must fight the urge to smack her upside the head. On a daily basis.

Today, the only difference was how strong the urge was and how close I came to living the dream of bopping her on the head.

We have an arrangement, as you are likely aware if you are a regular reader of this blog, that Mondays through Thursdays, she cooks dinner after I get home. I hate this arrangement but if I don't accept her help, I will never get to spend time with my Seoul, who, incidentally, will turn 4 months this weekend. Jeremy ordered her to leave me alone on Fridays. I am so happy every Friday because, for one, it's the weekend. And for another, I don't have to see that buck-toothed zombie for 2 whole days. Yay!

Each Friday, she basically leaves as soon as I get home and I am absolutely delighted. Raelynn plays while I nurse Seoul. Then I sing songs to my baby and play with her until she gets sleepy, which doesn't take long. Once she's asleep, I cook dinner. I don't make anything big and crazy but I do plan ahead and think of cool things I can make in 30 minutes or less. 45 minutes tops. Today, while on the bus home, I remembered we had bacon. And pasta. And I knew right then I'd make spaghetti carbonara. And if we still had lettuce, I'd make a fresh salad and homemade ranch dressing  to accompany the carbonara. Perfect!

So today, I feed Seoul and plop her into the crib while I go take the bacon out of the freezer. And that's when I discover MIL is cooking something. Incredulous, I ask her what she thinks she's doing. It's Friday and I'm cooking, not her. I am trying not to explode, but I seriously just want to grab her by the throat. I am so sick of being forced to eat her vomitous cooking creations. Is it so much to ask that I get to cook something I like on the weekends?

MIL tells me she's making an egg for Raelynn. It's just after 5pm now. An egg? I ask her. Why? I'm going to make dinner shortly, I tell her. But Raelynn's hungry, she tells me. Yeah? She just ate a snack on the bus. She's not going to starve if she has to wait 30 more minutes for her dinner. I tell her that if she gives her an egg now, she won't eat her dinner properly. But that evil cow goes about her egg-making ways and I curse at her in English, but without shouting so she can't whine to Jeremy that I shouted at her. She's no idea what I'm saying to her but I'm sure she knows I'm pissed.

Seoul falls asleep and when I come out of our room, I'm thrilled to discover MIL has gone to her house of farty smells and greasy grossness. I whip up spaghetti carbonara so delicious that my mom would be proud. Seriously, it was perfect. My salad was crisp and delicious too. And Jeremy surprised us by bringing fresh scallops, so we steamed and ate those too.

But Raelynn, who had asked for spaghetti, didn't touch it. She ate some of the scallops and a cucumber from the salad. Other than that, she was too full from the egg to dig into her portion of pasta. I think she took one bite of it. And it wasn't an "I don't like this" crybaby toddler issue. She was full. Now I was pissed. If MIL wants me to hate her even more deeply, she has succeeded.

I was fuming mad as I started writing this post, but Jeremy came home and we enjoyed our dinner and then some wine. And while we were unwinding, a wonderful idea popped into my head. On Monday when that awful woman is here, I will make a very big point of giving Raelynn a snack before dinner. A big snack. So she doesn't eat a bit of what that vile woman prepares. Then MIL will get a taste of her own medicine. Take that, cow!

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