Wednesday, February 29, 2012

A Surprise From MIL

I haven't written about MIL as a main topic in a while. I'm sure some of you have been totally bummed by my lack of bitching about her. For me, it was nice to be on paid vacation for 2 months (yesssss!) and even nicer not to have that troll shuffling around my house while I'm trying to relax and enjoy my time with my baby. I did have to endure a few things with her and my FIL, like being forced to go to their ramshackle home for dinner, or attempt to graciously accept the ugliest baby shoes on the planet. Yes, my vacation was, for the most part, blissful in large part because I did not have to see my MIL every single day. Or her aftermath in my home.

Today is only the second day I have been back at work since the winter break. I didn't even have students the past 2 days. Just teacher planning and lots of meetings arguing about the stupid changes they made to the curriculum and our daily schedules. Before I'd gone back to work, Jeremy had translated some things I wanted his mother to remember when watching Raelynn. She had smiled and nodded and told him she would be sure to take care of everything. I don't expect her to scrub my house from top to bottom. But what I do expect is that she'll pick up after herself. Sure, Raelynn is more active now but I've never been so busy with her that I couldn't take a few seconds to dispose of wet wipes and tissues I'd used to wipe off toys where they belong, in the garbage can. Yup. That's just one of the things I found today when I came home from school.

I'd noted the random tissues scattered on the dining table and near the TV as I came in. Still, I mustered up a pleasant face and greeted MIL. I then beam at my daughter who is now clambering to get out of the playpen to see me. I'll never know if she was just so excited to see me or if she wanted to get away from Grandma. Perhaps a little of both. Anyway, I hurry to hang up my coat and put up my things so I can wash my hands and rescue my darling daughter. That's when I discover our bathroom sink is clogged. I must tell you that I was actually the last one to leave this morning. Jeremy and MIL had to take Raelynn to get her final vaccination for the year. It was rather strange being all alone in the house. Without the baby. Surreal! When I'd used the sink before I left for work, the water went down the drain just fine. My husband went off to work right from taking Raelynn. He didn't come back upstairs. The culprit? MIL of course! She must have put tea leaves down there again. Moron.

While drying my hands on the towel, I then noticed that some bibs she'd placed atop the washing machine weren't there anymore. Oh. Noooooooo. No. She couldn't have. After I had Jeremy specifically tell her. I ran and looked about our home. They weren't hanging to dry inside. Or outside. She hand-washed them, which I asked her not to do because she doesn't use the laundry detergent (she uses the hand soap instead, which, for a while, she had brought this weird yellow soap that smells like pee and I would try to hide it from her but she'd keep finding it so I threw it away and she's never tried to bring it back since) and guess where she fucking put them? It took me a while to locate them too. She put them back in Raelynn's room on the shelf ON TOP OF 10 DRY BIBS! Which meant that now, these other 10 bibs were wet and smelled funny from sitting there wet like that all day while I was at work. Fucking MORON!

But the coup de gras was in the kitchen. Ah, just like old times, no? Come and see!
First up, we have this ominous sign of kitchen nightmares to come with a bowl and a plate on top. To the untrained eye, you'd think someone was just a lazy bastard when it came to putting the dishes on the drying rack you see there. Oh but no. This is such an MIL thing to do. She will cook something and then, to "store" it, she will put it in a bowl and top it with a plate. I should tell you we have plastic containers and she KNOWS it. She also knows where they are in our kitchen. But yet, I find this.

So, what is in the bowl? Nothing I want to eat. How about you?
Some crappy noodle dish. It doesn't look very appetizing either. It's got egg in it too. Oh yes, let's eat something that contains egg after it's been sitting out for hours. It is cold outside and our kitchen, the only room with no radiator, is the coldest in the house. But it is not THAT cold in there. Who wants diarrhea? Oh, me! Me! ME! NOT!

This is the window sill of our kitchen. This is our window sill with food sitting out on top of it. It might help to know that to the right of this, not shown in this photo, there is a very large double-door refrigerator with plenty of space in it. So, why the fuck is this shit sitting out? And out here no less? In the small space between this window sill and the refrigerator, we have a few things tucked away, like an extra baby bath tub (also not pictured in this photo). Even without stuff there, it's not a place you want to squeeze into. But for whatever reason, MIL, who is not exactly fat but certainly not thin either, is obviously spending her time lurking about in this crevice, stashing Chinese meat patties and actually using one of our storage containers to save some likely barfy-tasting creation she's made in my absence. The irony of her actually using one of our many plastic containers on this shit and not the noodle mess in the bowl is not lost on me either, incidentally.

In this photo, you can see what I mean regarding the placement of the food on the ledge right next to a massive refrigerator. I seriously have to wonder what goes through this woman's head. Tumbleweeds? Dust? Two monkeys picking fleas off each other? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?!? Why is this such a difficult concept for her to grasp? I know, I know. The poor woman had no choice about her education. I do feel for her. But she has 2 ears. She can listen, right? My husband speaks to her in Chinese. She says she understands him. But does she? The children I teach listen better than she does. I guarantee I wouldn't have to tell them 100 times to put food in a refrigerator. Hmmm...maybe the old bat just needs to repeat kindergarten. As long as it's not in MY class.

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