....and hence we have the blatant truth of the life of a twenty eight year old chick stuck knee deep in a world of sex, bitchiness and kitchen appliances....

Thursday, 19 January 2012

Shit, my mother-in-law is on the way!

Every so often that call comes.. and you know it the second you press 'accept' that the next half hour is going to be a nightmare. You have registered on the 'do not call' list, you have stressed to your kids to always tell them that mummy is busy.. you have to put your phone on silent every night after 7pm just incase...but it happens. Yes, you have just been summoned to half hour talking with your mother in law.

Now I'm not saying that all mother-in-laws are bad.. hell, I even love mine, but there is always that one thing that puts a definitive line between the Queen & the Princess... and that is what is known as The White Glove Test. Generally, this isn't done very discreetly.. they pretty much rock up with the damn thing in a glass protection case. A pristine fingermark free-smooth- clean glass protection case...with bells and whistles. And a smirk to boot. Naturally your mother-in-law had the brilliant foresight to let you she will be there in 10 minutes, although she lives 300km away. I swear it's a set up. 



Over the last 24 hours your kids have managed to demolish the house, which by the way was pristine the day before, and smear jam on your glass sliding door. Your three year old has managed to paint the cat with blue fingernail polish and smash a light fitting in your loungeroom with a broom. Naturally you had cooked rissoles the night before, and because one of the gremlins decided not to go to bed you didn't have time to do the dishes. You just about have a coronary after you put the phone down after her announcement of an imminent arrival and fall to your knees.


 What better way, you think, rationally, to waste the next ten precious minutes than to get onto the phone to your husband and tell him how irresponsible he is for having a mother who rocks up out of the blue. And to call him every name under the sun for not having the forethought to tidy up after tea.. because it's his fault and all..


You holler out to your kids, who are indeed fighting and carrying on, to help mummy get the house into some sort of order. They ignore you and proceed to dump the lego on the floor. Knowing there is only 7 minutes left until your judgement day you look around the house and decide you are going to pick up the crap off of the floor with a broom. Anything in it's warpath will have no mercy.. then you sweep it into the laundry and wedge the door shut so that your husband will have to call a builder in to fix it. But it buys you time. Anything in the loungeroom gets scooped up in record time and shoved in your bedroom, which is pretty safe- my mother in law has not stepped foot in mine since the day she walked in and found my vibrator on my bed. 


 Anything on your benchtop gets shoved into a drawer/bag/cupboard with no consideration as to what it is. The spray and wipe comes out and you attack the kitchen quicker than chicks jump on a cucumber in a maximum security prison. The place is starting to look a lot better, and you have just enough time to pull the mop out and go over the floor with lightning speed. I have managed to complete this marathon in 10 minutes.. and all I can say is it gives me my own little smirk. You turn on the airconditioner to make the floors look like they haven't just been done, and whip around in your socks shutting all the curtains to hide the windows. It's easy enough to blame the weather.. it's too hot/cold/muggy/bright to have them open.

After everything is done you look around and smile. Ten fucking minutes, I am a legend! You plan your speech when she rocks up: "Ohhhh hiii, how great to see you! I'm so sorry the house is a pigsty, but I haven't had a chance to clean up yet. How embarrassing! You should have let me know sooner! Come in.. no, don't take your shoes off the floor is desperate for a wash.." Everythings set. You are ready to face The Inquisition. You are even ready to face the "has hubby been eating properly? The kids are looking a bit pale, have you found a million dollar job yet?" part of the visit. You make a coffee, sit down and relax. This is going to be OK. You wait for her, not even considering starting another chore should she shock horror bust you in the middle of it.... and then cotton on to your little deception. And of course, she decides to stop into uncle Bob's first, and is 2 
fuckin hours late. Mother-in-laws. The bane of every wifes exista
nce.

written exclusively by Briohazard 14th January 2012

4 comments:

  1. I am sooooo sorry! I would give you a hug and a shot of strong booze if I could.

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  2. I had this huge comment typed up and my iPod froze and wouldn't let me post it. I also did not feel like typing it all over again.

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  3. It would have really been a kicker if she hadn't shown up at all! You should drop on her doorstep one day with all the kiddies! Too funny!

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  4. But you hugged ur damn dog first.....so sweet and that's why I'm a hitch DOG!

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