My weekend, in words.

For a while now, I have longed to put into words my experiences of when I have to visit the Mother in Law. It is a difficult thing to do because the entire experience engenders so much anger, and almost hatred, in me. Sometimes I experience some form of enlightenment where I let it pass me by untouched. Othertimes I cannot deal with it as effectively. This time, it mostly passed me by. I wasn't even passive-aggressive, I was merely passive.

This weekend just gone, we had to visit them for a little fireworks party that occurs every year.

Let me pause here for a second. I have no problem with The Father In Law - he's cool until one of his moments when he pitches up at our house unannounced, or asks the same question for the 100th time.

I always dread this occassion. Not because The Father In Law might get his hand taken off by an errant firework. No no. Merely because she (in this post "she" will refer explicitly to the mother in law) goes out of her way to ruin everything. She puts on her most dour face and can't muster up a single fucking smile the whole time that we are there.

And it doesn't stop there. She has to ruin things even further by complaining about everything that the Father in Law is doing. She tells us that he's doing it wrong. She asks why it has to be done like that. She chastises him like a child because he got dirty - FFS, he was stoking a bonfire, what do you expect? - she practically screams at him when she notices him sitting on an item of furniture while wearing apparently dirty clothing. Everything is prefixed with "Oh my God!", or a faked scream in agony. When someone asks her if she is okay, the answer they get is normally along the lines of "Of course I'm okay". When help is offered your head is bitten off quicker than vultures can form around a corpse.

I find these 'functions' to be something that I dread attending. In fact, myself, The Boss, the Boss's brother and The Boss's Brother's Wife all agree on that count. We only attend them because we have little choice. We're made to feel guilty. In fact, I can hear her voice saying "But he's bought all of these fireworks for you to see", yet in the same breath will beat him down like a petulant toddler for 'wasting' the money. She's so...capricious. She is more than that - she is completely two-faced. She'll say one thing to one person to meet some ends, and then the complete opposite to express her true opinion.

She never listens to what you say. She'll ask if you want something, whether that be a drink or a christmas gift. You can say "no" to her a thousand times. You will still get whatever you didn't want. You can say that no, you don't want to read something about her fucking Family History - a few minutes later some 100 year old photographs, newspaper clippings and a family tree will be in your hands and she will be waxing lyrical about it. There are occassions when she says "You can say no, it's okay", and you think that you have managed to get the message through, but still a few weeks later you get that horrid shirt you never wanted. Why is "no" so very difficult an answer to take? If someone tells me that they don't want something (regardless of whether they mean that answer or not), they don't get it. No seriously means no.

Her food is horrible. On Saturday evening, we were treated to some nasty mince meat and tomato water type stuff. I thought there might be some potatoes and vegetables to go with it. There were a couple of dishes of her signature sweet potatoes and carrots in orange juice on the table. Once putting that on our plates we wondered what was next. There was still a good half of the plate completely bare. WTF? If you're inviting people around for a meal, surely you make sure that they have a nosh? I'd rather slit my wrists than eat her food most of the time. Unfortunately I have little choice. The meals are always like that - barely anything on a plate, and nothing with a single bit of taste, as well as completely overcooked. She also forces us to take home nasty food and soup that she makes, in another case of not taking no for an answer.

I didn't want to invite her to our wedding, but I had little choice. I elected to ignore her for the entire day. I don't remember her once saying congratulations, or that we looked great. In the run up to the wedding she was disgusted that my Mother was either going to wear white or black to it. Why does it matter? If we suggested something that she didn't like, she would bitch at us about it for weeks trying to make us cave in. She tried to elicit a response from us about her outfit, but I wouldn't give an opinion. It was 8 months of her trying to grind us down. Epic fail.

But the worst thing has to be her attitude towards the way other people do things. If it's not the way she would [apparently] have done it, it's wrong. An example would be that a relative in a far flung land recently had a kid, but she didn't tell anyone that she was having it. That's the first place that this person went wrong, they were branded evil for that. Then she recalled about an experience in her life that happened almost 60 years ago, and used that as the reason for this other person being evil and wrong. Of course, because it's not the way you would have done it, it's wrong. However, there is a worse sin. The child that this person had is black. Surely that's a non-issue? It doesn't bother me or The Boss, or anyone else. What the hell has skin colour got to do with anything? They're another person, and all people are created equal. You should have seen the look on her face when she told us this. We were utterly non-plussed by it, frankly it's normal, surely a time for celebration? No, of course not. She does nothing but pour scorn on the people involved, and the situation. Why? Because it's different to how she lives/lived her life, therefore it must be the epitome of evil.

There doesn't seem to be the capacity for diversity in her brain. When we go out for a meal, she does nothing but point out mistakes, or say how it is better done, because her way is the right way. She treats everyone like a child too, and has no hesitation in telling people what they should or should not wear, or picking bits off people's clothing.

I have this amazingly passive hatred for her. I cannot bear to look her in the eye for fear that she will try to suck out my soul - or worse - that I won't be able to keep my mouth shut and I will tell her what I really think of her. I cannot stand to be in the same room as her, it makes my skin crawl. I really cannot stand her existance because, over the past four and a half years she has been trying to wear us down and make us as pathetic as her. The best option is to simply ignore her. If that means not going to see her except when it is absolutely necessary, then so be it. I would rather that than having to stay my tongue.

What will it be like when she realises that neither of her children, nor their wives, are ever going to produce for her that coveted grandchild?