Full o' Thanks

After we left Great Wolf Lodge of Ugly Feet, Ill-Placed Tattoos, and Skin Conditions, we headed to Granny and Papa’s. 

Let me begin by saying that I LOVE my Mother-in-Law, and I’m not just saying that because she told me that reading my blogs is one of the best parts of her day.  And I’m not just saying that because she’s so cool she actually told me once, (a la Loretta Lynn,) to tell my husband, HER son, when he came home from a night out, “don’t come home adrinkin’ with lovin’ on yer mind.”  Amen, sister.  Seriously, in the Mother-in-Law department, I hit the jackpot.  I know this because I have had many conversations with my girlfriends about their not-so-jackpot mothers-in-law.  I won’t name names in order to protect the innocent, but you know who you are. 

Okay, so we’ve established that I love my Mother-in-Law.  But good lord is it hot at her house.  When I was pregnant with Medium and we were visiting one winter, I literally went out on the deck for a few minutes to cool down.  At night.  In my pajamas.  In DECEMBER.  Because it was so friggin’ hot in the house.  She says things like, “I don’t know why you’re so hot.  The thermostat says 75.”  Um, we keep our house at 70, and I grew up with parents who froze our a$$es out at 68. 

Armpits.

Persweaty.

 

Mommy.  At midnight.  Except
in cuter pajamas.

Hubby and I have been known to be all stealth-like and crack our window open, turn on the fan, and shut the vents.  Otherwise we are two cranky, fish-out-of-water floppin’ all over the bed, non-sleepers.  Add to that the fact that, during our last visit, all I could hear were strains of Yo Gabba Gabba coming from my brother-in-law’s room.  No one should be subjected to that during the day, and I’m sure I looked like The Joker in Cotton PJ’s as I knocked on his door at midnight with bloodshot eyes and gritted teeth so I could ask him to Please. Make. It. Stop.

Then there’s my Father-in-Law.  

He lives by two rules:

1. All food is better in Abundance.  This is the logic behind preparing 20 crab cakes for three adults and 2.5 children.  The kids eat nuggets, and when is the last time you ate six crab cakes at one sitting? 
2. All that Abundant Food is made even better when accompanied by a stick of butter.  It is good Suthun’ cooking, but my Father-in-Law is not a friend to my Weight Watchers plan.  He is a diet saboteur.  I once requested some plain broccoli without butter.  He returned with a bowl of broccoli and “just a little butter.”  Picture broccoli swimming in a pool of buttery goodness.

So the whole family was there and we Thankfully (full o' thanks) stuffed ourselves with the fruits of my Father-in-Law’s labor.  Afterwards, when the kids were all outside and the grown boys were sitting with their hands in their waistbands while watching football, I noticed that my Sister-in-Law, BooBoo, was nowhere to be found.  She's sneaky, that one.  She had left me in the trenches to fend for myself while she snuck away for a nap.  I tiptoed into the guest room with my special napping blanket and my turkey-eating elastic pants.  (Oh yes, there is a very special blanket for napping. And it travels with me.) 

Because my SIL and I are two of the most mature people I know, we texted this to our husbands who were one room away:

"I'm the outer spoon."

Then we giggled like two fifth graders.  Well, fifth graders with cell phones.

BTW - Small says Happy Thanksgiving: