It's almost official: Two of my brothers-in-law are moving in with us this weekend. I'm nervous about having anyone live with us for several reasons, and surprisingly the number one reason has nothing to do with my roudy boys. The number one reason I am nervous about my husband's brothers moving into our home has to do with the fact that nearly ten years ago when my husband and I first got married we lived with his parents which turned out to be the biggest mistake in our newlywed lives. Mostly because of the Mother Trucker.
You see, my husband, in his infinite wisdom, decided it would be a great idea to go camping with his friends three days after we got married without A.) asking me if I wanted to go, and B.) not telling me he was going. Instead, I found myself all alone in his parent's home in The Middle of Nowhere (aka Hanna), Wyoming with only his mom to keep me entertained. And if you know my mother-in-law, then you know it was not very entertaining.
When he got back two days later I was fuming that he had left me and not told me he was even going. We had our first spat while being married. We yelled at each other and I really let into him about how I felt about being left alone with his parents. I ended up having to cool off in his dad's workshop up in the attic.
Eventually, my husband came up and apologized to me. I ended up apologizing for getting so angry with him and we made up. I then thought that the most appropriate thing to do was to apologize to my in-laws for arguing in their home and causing discontent. Because I was taught that asking for forgiveness is Christ-like.
And if asking for forgiveness is Christ-like then my mother-in-law is the devil. Like most women, I remember the conversation like it was yesterday:
Me: "I want to apologize for yelling in your home and causing discontent. We really shouldn't have gotten carried away like that."
LOOONGEST pause of my life.
Her: "Well, if I were my son then I would get my marriage annulled right now."
That's right, not one week into being married and my husband's mother trucker was already rooting for our divorce.
Which is why I was the happiest gal on the planet when she and her husband got a divorce seven years later. Because karma's a beach. I'm passive aggressive. And women never forget.
(My husband is slowly learning that last one.)
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