Roughness

Last night was rough, as a combination of back pain and restrained fury kept me from sleeping properly. I suspect the two elements that combined to keep me awake for most of the night and command that I rise a the obscene hour of 6:00 am on a Sunday morning are linked. Without the fury, I suspect the pain would be less unpleasant.

My in-laws came for brunch yesterday. My MIL bought some baby clothes from the St. Vincent DePaul thrift store and we spent a few minutes admiring the different items and showing off the crib before taking them to The Original Pancake House to eat. The restaurant was an easy decision, based on our one prior visit to the establishment (in spite of the waitress accidentally dropping my strawberry belgium waffle at my feet, shattering the plate and leaving a dot of whipped cream my sandals) and the sight of vehicles overflowing the lot every time we drove past.

The visit seemed to go smoothly. There was the inevitable fight over the check, but we are used to that. There was equally inevitable lecture over tithing to “the church”, something neither J nor myself are willing to do, as we believe that there non profit organizations out there with far better uses for our money.

Both of J's parents are involved in their diocese's current capital campaign. The amount of money my in-laws are donating over the next five years to the campaign is staggering (it would easily cover one year's worth of tuition, room and board at any state university) and is less than officials wanted J's parents to give. After dropping that small detail into the conversation, J's father told us a story of a recent phone conversation with a parishioner, which took place while the parishioner was going through a fast-food drive through. He voiced disapproval that the woman could afford a fast food meal but was not willing to give more than $50.00 a year to the campaign. The ridges in my tongue grew deeper.

There was a second argument back at the house because my FIL wanted to break into a space that “sounded” hollow in the basement foundation, over my objections. Too tired to continue listen to my FIL browbeat me over the fact that I had little desire to clean up a potential train wreck I finally agreed to allow J to cut into the section a little bit, just to establish whether it was hollow or not. It was not.

During the course visit, my MIL asked us what big items we needed for the alien. I explained that my mother was purchasing the stroller (a jogger style stroller, selected after some careful research which included stopping random strangers I saw pushing the candidate in the street and asking them what they liked about it) but that we still needed a car seat, bottles, clothing, a diaper bag and all sorts of miscellaneous things. They offered to purchase the car seat. A gracious and generous offer. I showed her the registry list so she could get an idea at the type of car seat we wanted.

The trouble began after my in-laws had left, as I was crashing on the couch, idly watching college football and trying to complete a novel and J was working on a side project with a friend. Our house phone rang.

The caller was my MIL, they were at Target looking at a jogger travel system and my FIL was debating whether to purchase the system, in spite of my previous, explicit explanation that my mother was purchasing the stroller. I calmly explained that the brand they were looking at was not the same stroller my mother was purchasing and thanked her for the call. Then I hung up the phone and announced to J “if they go ahead and do this, I will kill your father”.

To understand why this would cause back pain and a sleepless night, you must understand that my FIL has a very bad habit of undercutting other people's plans, charging full speed ahead and creating massive chaos without any consideration for anyone else's feelings. As example 1, I offer up the incident recounted four paragraphs up.

As example 2, I offer up an incident from several years ago, when my FIL went behind my back while I was out of the country and offered to purchase a new ragtop for J's convertible as a birthday gift, after I told his parents that I was saving up my money to surprise J with the top as a Christmas gift. J, unaware of the surprise I had been planning, accepted the gift. To say that I was infuriated would be an understatement. To me, the ragtop was not just a practical gift. As J and I had spent many happy hours in that car on various road trips, the presentation of the new top had a sentimental significance for me and I was proud of the fact that I could earn enough money to give him a gift I could not afford when we first started dating. While I never voiced to my FIL the affect this actions had on me, I could not hide my hurt feelings from J. And the gift was poisoned from that day until the day that J traded in the car.

However, those actions only affected me. This recent development gives my FIL an opportunity to act like super grandfather at the expense of my mother. I'm especially concerned that if they purchase this system, they will present it at the shower, which my mother is attending, leaving me to deal with the fallout of my mother's hurt feelings once the festivities are over.