So, Thanksgiving hits. ILs
tell us that they are coming for the week of Christmas from WA State. No consultation, checking with us about work schedules-nothing. Fuck. MIL/Fil getting older so they can't easily navigate the stairs to our basement where the guest room is. Fuck, I guess I'm living downstairs for a week now. Got my ass handed to me at work Christmas Eve night, get home, and "home" is already filled with the WA State SMUG. FIL is sitting at my chair in the kitchen- he knows it's where I always sit, so he makes sure to grab that shit
every time. I go sleep for a couple of hours (mostly to hide and not start any shit first thing on baby-Jesus's birthday.
Finally, get up, and get the mandatory lecture on environment meets holiday season. Platitudes are served in response to wife's cooking-serving-cleaning up after breakfast, with the requisite milquetoast "is there anything we can do to help?" [Internal voice] "Yeah, how about checking with us before booking your plane tickets next time?" Fuck. Take a short nap, and wake up to find that B/FIL has now taken
my chair from kitchen into
my [now their] bedroom so that he has a "place to sit." Fuck?
Yeah, I can't stand small talk. So looking for middle ground, I try the "if we want hydrocarbon-free energy for all these electric everythings the .gov wants [is mandating], we are going to have to look at nuclear, specifically small modular reactors." "Wut" says boomer/father-in-law? So I lay out SMR shit for him, and immediately regret it. [Insert long-winded dialog on Hanford, 3MI, Fukushima, even Chernobyl pt.1/pt.2] "Yeah, but SMRs ain't your FILs nuclear reactor...the only options I see are we all take a plunge in the standard of living, or there's a lot less of us (and we all take a plunge in the standard of living)." "Well, I don't know about that" -B/FIL. Now I get it, B/FIL and MIL are both nestled up to Social Security and as such the .gov can do no wrong. Fuck. I almost have a
@Wade moment hating on them so much. But then realize that somehow/somewhere, I am personally stealing from Wade while helping kill Americans, I resign myself to self-loathing and my hypocrisy. Fuck.
FF to dinner- I cook tenderloins for everyone, with fixings (directly paid for by Wade's taxes, I guess). Anyway, MIL drops the "this isn't a traditional XMAS dinner." Fuck. I hate turkey and didn't want to smoke a prime rib for four people, two who don't eat much, but one who sure fucking complains a lot. Couple of friends/neighbors show up. Thank you, baby-Jesus, thank you. Neighbor fucks up and tries to strike up conversation with B/FIL and MIL on how jacked-up the WA/country is. He misses my Ixnay on that, and a short diatribe on the virtues of liberal virtues ensues, followed by awkward silence. Well, fuck. Is there more EH Taylor down there somewhere?
FF 4 more days of being held hostage in my own house, off to the air-fucking-port, finally. Mom died in June so I say, "having you two here really helped take my mind off mom being gone." Olive branch, right? Kinda true, hey, it's Christmas, right? "We sure had a great time" they say. [Yeah, no shit, you got waited on hand-and-foot, all airport transfers included.] "We'll be back this summer!" "Fuck.No. Fuckno!" I scream in my head.
Hey, I know there are no broken TVs, alcoholics (except me, worse now than before), felons, or screaming well-behaved kids, but the dysfunction is real. The struggle is real. Thanks for letting me vent, fellas. Now, back to stealing from Wade and helping kill Americans. I guess.