Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Wanna go fishing? Wanna go fishing? Wanna go fishing? Wanna go fishing?

It's about to get lengthy up in here, folks. Buckle up and enjoy the ride.

In-laws. You either love them or you can't stand them.

Well, for those of you who love your in-laws, thank God for that, because those of us who can't stand ours are insanely jealous.

I like lists, so, let's do this in list form, shall we?

Time to talk about my father-in-law. Also known as the one person on this Earth I just can't stomach any longer.

Reasons Your FIL is Better Than Mine

- He takes advantage of his kids. He borrows their vehicles at the most inconvenient of times, racks up miles on them, doesn't fill the gas tank back up, and when my husband specifically asked him not to drive his truck anywhere far (knowing he doesn't fill the tank back up and likes to rack up miles), he does it, anyway, driving to the next state over to see his "lady friends." My BIL's truck? He actually broke things on it and still hasn't fixed it. It happened two years ago. Oh, and did I mention most of the time he won't just give it back, they have to ASK for it back?

- He lies. A lot. Often. Always. So, you can't believe a word he says.

- He exaggerates. Often. Always. So, you can't believe a word he says.

- Basically, you don't even want to talk to him. Often. Ever.

- When I was two weeks postpartum, he came to visit us. He came an hour early and stayed for SIX HOURS. And he fell asleep on our couch. I was hormonal. I just had a baby. My boobs hurt, and I needed to pump. Six hours is never okay unless it's a family gathering and you aren't the only one over.

- A day when the hubs had baby duty, FIL came over to "help" him (gag me), and he stayed for TWELVE HOURS. TWELVE, people. Doesn't he have a home/life/brain?!?! So glad I wasn't home for that.

- Most of the time when he comes over, we have to ask him to leave or make it blatantly obvious we want him to leave. He never just leaves on his own. This makes for us not wanting him to come over. Often. Ever.

- He kicks my dogs. KICKS THEM. In front of us. Why? Because he WALKS THROUGH MY FRONT DOOR WITHOUT KNOCKING. Every time. I am not okay with this. If you're going to walk through my door without knocking, and my 70-pound Lab jumps up at you, you don't KICK her, or I'll kick YOU.

- He shows up unexpectedly.

- He wants to babysit our son, and keeps asking to. He even offered to give the husband and I money to go out to eat. This will never happen. Why? Because my son will never go to his house. He will never be alone in my house with my son. (If he kicks my dog in front of me, can you imagine what he'd do to her if we weren't home? or what he'd do to my kid? Don't laugh at me. I'm serious.) We keep ignoring his asking. Please, God, allow this to happen for years to come.

- He found that saying, "Wanna go fishing?" to my son makes him giggle. So, that's all he says. Repeatedly. Oh, and he whistles at him like he's a dog and taps his leg/snaps his fingers. That's fun to witness. Just offer him a biscuit, why don'tcha?

- This one is where it could go on and on and on, but I'll give you the super short version. Since my husband was about 4 years old, FIL has been telling him that his mother was an awful person. He told numerous lies about her - horrible ones. For all these years, he brainwashed both of his boys. Last year? I contacted her. I wanted to know the truth. She's the nicest person ever. This makes me dislike him so much more. (We talk to her now, for the record. FIL doesn't like this at all. Actually told me not to. Sca-rew, you, FIL.) If I told you what I'd really want to, you'd be PISSED. PISSED. But I don't want to put all of her biz out there. But know it's bad. And wrong. And NEVER okay to do to anyone...especially your WIFE.

- Wanna know what prompted me to contact her? I worked for him. Yeah. I was temporarily insane, apparently. This was before I knew the true him. He had me doing ridiculous tasks while 7 months pregnant, and the entire month I worked for him (I quit after one month.), I had to ask for my paycheck each week. And the crude names he called shouted at his own business partners, the ways he talked to them, I can't even tell you. It was awful. Oh. Did I mention he hired men who were in jail for beating their wives, and he was okay with that? Gee. Wonder why. (Refer to previous bullet.) Peace out, FIL.

You get it, right? Do I really need to continue?

I don't even think anything else needs to be said.

So, for those of you who love your in-laws...you're lucky.

Want one of mine? :)

boss man

My boss is an ass. 4 minutes before close of business, he sends be a 26 page document that needs to be edited.

Two hours later, having missed my son's bath and bedtime and still not done, I call him to explain that the formatting is fucked harder than a prostitute at a gang bang. His response? "Well, we probably wont get it out tonight after all, so we'll revisit it again tomorrow."

Fuck you mister boss man. Fuck you.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

lazy as fuck

Husband took the day off yesterday. Sent the baby to daycare, so that he could have time off. Well deserved, as he's home all summer with a one year old. Any parent in their right mind wants a few hours to themselves. You know, to shower in peace. Or actually paint their toenails. Can't tell you the last time I had that luxury. Or managed to shave my legs without a husband and / or baby banging on the door to ask me a question. Apparently neither can wipe their own ass by themselves. Baby gets a free pass because he's one. Husband is 33, so his major malfunction is either stupidity, laziness, or late onset mental handicaps.

Instead of doing anything resembling something semi-helpful to his wife, he slept. All day. Assumingly, he scratched his balls and played with his dick a little in the process too. One chore was given to him for the 8 hours of uninterrupted me time. One. And it didn't involve anything more complicated than taking laundry from the washing machine and placing it in the dryer. I don't ask for much ladies.

The sight I walked into yesterday evening at 5:30 made my blood boil. The house looked like a victim of the Japan earthquakes mixed with a side of homeless squatters. Shit. Was. Everywhere. Shoes, cups, plates, shoe insoles strewn all over the floor. Three rolls of paper towels on various tables. Bottles sitting in the sink. Pieces of his wallet contents tucked into the couch.

Baby was in his highchair attempting to eat dinner. And you know what husband was doing? Throwing the laundry from the washer into the dryer. At 5:30pm. When asked what he did all day he responded "slept... a lot. And went and met X for a few beers."

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.

What made the entire situation escalate my blood pressure to boiling status was that the dryer apparently had broken sometime in the last two days. With two loads of wet shit just sitting there. Had he actually completed the one fucking request I asked of him in the morning, we could have had a repair man over within an hour and it would have been fixed. Now we're on day two of sopping wet clothes with a broken dryer and I am officially throwing around the dreaded D word in my own head because I cannot continue to handle 40+ more years of this. I am at my limit. 

He is BY FAR the laziest man I have ever know.

Welcome to BITCH

Welcome to BITCH.

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